Poem
Andy Quan
Apple-Pears
Apple-Pears
Apple-Pears
each ninth month of the yearthe buds fallen & fruit forming
copper-gold jewels a child’s round cheeks
sah-lay, we call them, the sound of new seasons
two notes plucked from a song played on strings
they came to us: Chinese fruit to a Chinese family
from wartime sailboats, Captain Blueberry
guarding cuttings in his metal chest
my parents planted it like Jack’s magic seed
in time, the fruit came like doubloons
we explain they are apple-* * *
pears, I explain them like I explain myself:
like one thing, like another
but neither, you must taste it to know it
as I leave for university
the sah-lay skins are yellow and green
mother & I find two ripe small imploded moons
we peel & cut the flesh honied & crisp
the translucence is still
on my tongue when I say goodbye:
mother’s efficient hug, brisk, her
small frame bony under my arms
father’s soft belly & tilted head
embrace, his eyes water
reaching high altitude, I recline
pocket of impossible life amidst thousands
of miles of empty air and light
dwarf nuggets hidden in
my body turn fibrous, dissolve.
© 2001, Andy Quan
From: Slant
Publisher: Nightwood Editions, Madeira Park, B.C.
From: Slant
Publisher: Nightwood Editions, Madeira Park, B.C.
Poems
Poems of Andy Quan
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Apple-Pears
each ninth month of the yearthe buds fallen & fruit forming
copper-gold jewels a child’s round cheeks
sah-lay, we call them, the sound of new seasons
two notes plucked from a song played on strings
they came to us: Chinese fruit to a Chinese family
from wartime sailboats, Captain Blueberry
guarding cuttings in his metal chest
my parents planted it like Jack’s magic seed
in time, the fruit came like doubloons
we explain they are apple-* * *
pears, I explain them like I explain myself:
like one thing, like another
but neither, you must taste it to know it
as I leave for university
the sah-lay skins are yellow and green
mother & I find two ripe small imploded moons
we peel & cut the flesh honied & crisp
the translucence is still
on my tongue when I say goodbye:
mother’s efficient hug, brisk, her
small frame bony under my arms
father’s soft belly & tilted head
embrace, his eyes water
reaching high altitude, I recline
pocket of impossible life amidst thousands
of miles of empty air and light
dwarf nuggets hidden in
my body turn fibrous, dissolve.
From: Slant
Apple-Pears
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