Poetry

OCTOBER 2018

Apples

by DAVID R. FORMAN

 
 
 

It’s an unbelievable year
for apples.

Hurricanes hit Houston,
have wiped out whole islands
in the Caribbean while,
in Idaho, soccer games
are canceled so children
can stay inside. Wildfires
are bad all over the West
this unbelievable year
for apples.
You should go get some.

Seriously. Our dog Mia
has a tumor in her spleen
that could bleed out any day.
Any day is a good day
for apples. When else
but now?

Frida Sofia, reported
trapped 32 hours beneath
the rubble of Mexico’s earthquake.
She said, I’m thirsty, I’m OK,
please don’t take too long.
Twelve years
old. The digging intensified
until we learned this morning
that no such girl exists.

What a crazy year this has been.

You can see them when you drive by.
Bright red trees top to bottom,
or yellow, hung heavily
with perfect fruit. I’m telling you.
You should go get some. Eat one
for my friend Carla. Who knows
what crap kind of fruit they give her
post surgery? Just this week
the President of the US
threatened to wipe a country
with 25 million people
off the map. Unbelievable.

It’s just been an unbelievable year
for apples.


David R. Forman

David R. Forman returned to his early love of writing in midlife, after careers as a calligrapher and a behavioral scientist. His poems have appeared in The Bakery, Cimarron Review, HEArt Online, and elsewhere. In addition to writing poetry, he is currently translating a children’s book from Yiddish to English. He lives in Ithaca, New York.