02/30 Mango

Mango

I’ve never cut a raw mango before

Never hacked the fruit away from the immense pit.

Attempt to peel the green and red skin from the orange pulp.

Can count on one hand the number of times I’ve eaten mango

But that moment, a beacon on the chalkboard sign

“On Sale: $1.50” and I said Can’t be that hard.

My sticky counter and dulled knife now argue that hypothesis.

 

Black faux granite shining with juices

Spilt over cutting board and hangnails

With just enough juice seeped in to make it sting

My own skin not split quite wide enough to actually rinse out.

Mangos don’t come with instructions

like pineapples do.

Little cardboard attachment to stalk

Info card attachment to stalk

One side cutting methods

Converse to random facts

Did you know the pineapple is actually multiple fruits fused together?

I did not.

Mango is singular

Enough fruit post-hack job for one.

 

Fairly certain I’ve hacked enough toughness out of the center

I sit down and feed a piece to my girlfriend.

She exclaims That’s pretty good

Stinging in my fingers dulled for the moment.

 

Posted in Poetry Tagged with: ,

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