The Hungry Ear (19 page)
Authors: Kevin Young
Silver dust,
lifted from the earth,
higher than my arms reach,
you have mounted,
O, silver,
higher than my arms reach,
you front us with great mass;
no flower ever opened
so staunch a white leaf,
no flower ever parted silver
from such rare silver;
O, white pear,
your flower-tufts
thick on the branch
bring summer and ripe fruits
in their purple hearts.
We sliced the watermelon into smiles.
We sliced the watermelon into smiles.
We sliced the watermelon into smiles.
We sliced the watermelon into smiles.
We sliced the watermelon into smiles.
We sliced the watermelon into smiles.
We sliced the watermelon into smiles.
We sliced the watermelon into smiles.
We sliced the watermelon into smiles.
We sliced the watermelon into smiles.
We sliced the watermelon into smiles.
We sliced the watermelon into smiles.
We sliced the watermelon into smiles.
We sliced the watermelon into smiles.
Green Buddhas
On the fruit stand.
We eat the smile
And spit out the teeth.
My hands are murder-red. Many a plump head
drops on the heap in the basket. Or, ripe
to bursting, they might be hearts, matching
the blackbird's wing-fleck. Gripped to a reed
he shrieks his ko-ka-ree in the next juicy field.
He's left his peck in some juicy cheeks, when
at first blush and mostly white, they
showed streaks of sweetness to the marauder.
We're picking near the shore, the morning
sunny, a slight wind moving rough-veined leaves
our hands rumple among. Fingers find by feel
the ready fruit in clusters. Flesh was perfect
yesterday. ⦠June was for gorging. â¦
sweet hearts young and firm before decay.
“Take only the biggest, and not too ripe,”
a mother calls to her girl and boy, barefoot
in the furrows. “Don't step on any. Don't
change rows. Don't eat too many.” Mesmerized
by the largesse, the children squat and pull
and pick handfulls of rich scarlets, half
for the baskets, half for avid mouths.
Soon, whole faces are stained.
A crop this thick begs for plunder. Ripeness
wants to be ravished, as udders of cows when hard,
the blue-veined bags distended, ache to be stripped.
Hunkered in mud between the rows, sun burning
the back of our necks, we grope for, and rip loose
soft nippled heads. If they bleedâtoo softâ
let them stay. Let them rot in the heat.
When, hidden away in a damp hollow under moldy
leaves, I come upon a clump of heart-shapes
once red, now spiderspit-gray, intact but empty,
still attached to their dead stemsâ
families smothered as at PompeiiâI rise
and stretch. I eat one more big ripe lopped
head. Red-handed, I leave the field.
If this is a thing of the past,
planting strawberries on the Delaware River
and eating zucchini from my own garden,
then I will have to be buried too,
along with the beer-hall musicians
and the “startlingly beautiful sunset”
and the giant Swiss pansies,
in the ruins of Pennsylvania.
I put the strawberries in one by one.
They look like octopuses and their feet dance in the water
as I cover them up to their necks.
They take up so much room
that I could eat an acre of them for breakfast
sitting in the dirt.
What I like best is having a garden this close to
the factories and stores of Easton.
It is like carrying a knife in my pocket!
It is like kissing in the streets!
I would like to convert all the new spaces
back into trees and rocks.
I would like to turn the earth up after the bulldozers
have gone and plant corn and tomatoes.
I would like to guard our new propertyâwith helmets and dogs.
I would like us to feed ourselves in the middle of their civilization.
Blackberries are back. They cling near
little streams. Their eyes, bright mornings,
make tunnels through the vines.
They see their own thorns in the sky,
and the print of leaves.
At night they hide inside the wind,
ready to try the outdoors on.
They swing for distance, root for
fidelity. The truth is your only ransom
once they touch your tongue.
Nobody in the lane, and nothing, nothing but blackberries,
Blackberries on either side, though on the right mainly,
A blackberry alley, going down in hooks, and a sea
Somewhere at the end of it, heaving. Blackberries
Big as the ball of my thumb, and dumb as eyes
Ebon in the hedges, fat
With blue-red juices. These they squander on my fingers.
I had not asked for such a blood sisterhood; they must love me.
They accommodate themselves to my milkbottle, flattening their sides.
Overhead go the choughs in black, cacophonous flocksâ
Bits of burnt paper wheeling in a blown sky.
Theirs is the only voice, protesting, protesting.
I do not think the sea will appear at all.
The high, green meadows are glowing, as if lit from within.
I come to one bush of berries so ripe it is a bush of flies,
Hanging their bluegreen bellies and their wing panes in a Chinese screen.
The honey-feast of the berries has stunned them; they believe in heaven.
One more hook, and the berries and bushes end.
The only thing to come now is the sea.
From between two hills a sudden wind funnels at me,
gapping its phantom laundry in my face.
These hills are too green and sweet to have tasted salt.
I follow the sheet path between them. A last hook brings me
To the hills' northern face, and the face is orange rock
That looks out on nothing, nothing but a great space
Of white and pewter lights, and a din like silversmiths
Beating and beating at an intractable metal.
Fringing the woods, the stone walls, and the lanes,
Old thickets everywhere have come alive,
Their new leaves reaching out in fans of five
From tangles overarched by this year's canes.
They have their flowers too, it being June,
And here or there in brambled dark-and-light
Are small, five-petaled blooms of chalky white,
As random-clustered and as loosely strewn
As the far stars, of which we now are told
That ever faster do they bolt away,
And that a night may come in which, some say,
We shall have only blackness to behold.
I have no time for any change so great,
But I shall see the August weather spur
Berries to ripen where the flowers wereâ
Dark berries, savage-sweet and worth the waitâ
And there will come the moment to be quick
And save some from the birds, and I shall need
Two pails, old clothes in which to stain and bleed,
And a grandchild to talk with while we pick.
In a dream I meet
my dead friend. He has,
I know, gone long and far,
and yet he is the same
for the dead are changeless.
They grow no older.
It is I who have changed,
grown strange to what I was.
Yet I, the changed one,
ask: “How you been?”
He grins and looks at me.
“I been eating peaches
off some mighty fine trees.”
No easy thing to bear, the weight of sweetness.
Song, wisdom, sadness, joy: sweetness
equals three of any of these gravities.
See a peach bend
the branch and strain the stem until
it snaps.
Hold the peach, try the weight, sweetness
and death so round and snug
in your palm.
And, so, there is
the weight of memory:
Windblown, a rain-soaked
bough shakes, showering
the man and the boy.
They shiver in delight,
and the father lifts from his son's cheek
one green leaf
fallen like a kiss.
The good boy hugs a bag of peaches
his father has entrusted
to him.
Now he follows
his father, who carries a bagful in each arm.
See the look on the boy's face
as his father moves
faster and farther ahead, while his own steps
flag, and his arms grow weak, as he labors
under the weight
of peaches.
From blossoms comes
this brown paper bag of peaches
we bought from the boy
at the bend in the road where we turned toward
signs painted
Peaches
.
From laden boughs, from hands,
from sweet fellowship in the bins,
comes nectar at the roadside, succulent
peaches we devour, dusty skin and all,
comes this familiar dust of summer, dust we eat.
O, to take what we love inside,
to carry within us an orchard, to eat
not only the skin, but the shade,
not only the sugar, but the days, to hold
the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into
the round jubilance of peach.
There are days we live
as if death were nowhere
in the background; from joy
to joy to joy, from wing to wing,
from blossom to blossom to
impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.
Elizabeth Alexander, “Butter” from
Crave Radiance: New and Selected Poems 1990â2010
. Copyright © 1997 by Elizabeth Alexander. Reprinted with the permission of the Permissions Company, Inc., on behalf of Graywolf Press,
www.graywolfpress.org
. James Applewhite, “Collards” from
Ode to the Chinaberry Tree and Other Poems
. Copyright © 1986 by James Applewhite. Reprinted by permission of Louisiana State University Press. Craig Arnold, “Hot” from
Shells
. Copyright © 1999 by Craig Arnold. Reprinted with the permission of Yale University Press. “Meditation on a Grapefruit” from
Poetry
(October 2009). Reprinted with the permission of the Estate of Craig Arnold. Jimmy Santiago Baca, “Green Chile” from
Black Mesa Poems
. Copyright © 1989 by Jimmy Santiago Baca. Reprinted by permission of New Directions Publishing Corp. Charles Baudelaire, “Be Drunk,” translated by Louis Simpson, from
Modern Poets of France: A Bilingual Anthology
, translated and edited by Louis Simpson (Story Line Press, 1997). Copyright © 1997 by Louis Simpson. Reprinted by permission of the translator. Erin Belieu, “Love Is Not an Emergency” from Slate (January 31, 2012). Reprinted with the permission of the author. Wendell Berry, “Fall” from
Collected Poems 1957â1982
. Copyright © 1984 by Wendell Berry. “Water” from
Farming: A Handbook
. Copyright © 1970 by Wendell Berry. “A Meeting” from
Collected Poems 1957â1982
. Copyright © 1984 by Wendell Berry. All reprinted with the permission of Counterpoint. George Bilgere, “Corned Beef and Cabbage” from
The Good Kiss
. Reprinted by permission of the University of Akron Press. Elizabeth Bishop, “The Fish” from
The Complete Poems: 1927â1979
. Copyright © 1979, 1983 by Alice Helen Methfessel. Reprinted by permission of Farrar, Straus & Giroux, LLC. Roy Blount, Jr., “Song to Bacon” and “Song to Barbecue Sauce” from
One Fell Soup, or I'm Just a Bug on the Windshield of Life
(Atlantic Monthly Press/Little Brown, 1967. Copyright © 1967 by Roy Blount, Jr. Reprinted with the permission of International Creative Management, Inc. Michael C. Blumenthal, “Squid” from
Days We Would Rather Know
. Reprinted by permission of Pleasure Boat Studio. Catherine Bowman, “1-800-Hot-Ribs” from
1-800-HOT-RIBS
(Carnegie Mellon
University Press, 2000). Copyright © 1993 by Catherine Bowman. Reprinted with the permission of the author. Gwendolyn Brooks, “The Bean Eaters” from
Blacks
. Copyright © 1987 by Gwendolyn Brooks. Reprinted by consent of Brooks Permissions. Lucille Clifton, “cutting greens” from
The Collected Poems of Lucille Clifton
. Copyright © 1991 by Lucille Clifton. Reprinted with the permission of the Permissions Company, Inc. on behalf of BOA Editions Ltd.,
www.boaeditions.org
. Judith Ortiz Cofer, “Beans: An Apologia for Not Loving to Cook” from
A Love Story Beginning in Spanish
. Copyright © 2005 by Judith Ortiz Cofer. Reprinted with the permission of the University of Georgia Press. “The Latin Deli: An Ars Poetica” from
The Latin Deli: Prose
&
Poetry
. Copyright © 1993 by Judith Ortiz Cofer. Reprinted with the permission of Arte Público Press. Billy Collins, “The Fish” from
Ballistics
. Originally published in the
New York Times
(November 25, 2007). Copyright © 2010 by Billy Collins. Used by permission of Random House, Inc. “Osso Bucco” from
The Art of Drowning
. Copyright © 1995 by Billy Collins. Reprinted by permission of the University of Pittsburgh Press. “Litany” from
Nine Horses
. Originally published in
Poetry
(February 2002). Copyright © 2002 by Billy Collins. Used by permission of Random House, Inc. Wyn Cooper, “Fun” from
The Country of Here Below
(Boise: Ahshata Press, 1987). Copyright © 1987 by Wyn Cooper. Reprinted with the permission of the author. Matthew Dickman, “Coffee” from
All-American Poem
. Copyright © 2008 by Matthew Dickman. Reprinted with the permission of the Permissions Company, Inc., on behalf of Copper Canyon Press,
www.coppercanyonpress.org
. Stephen Dobyns, “Tomatoes” from
Cemetery Nights
. Copyright © 1997 by Stephen Dobyns. Used by permission of Viking Penguin, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. Mark Doty, “A Display of Mackerel” from
Atlantis
. Copyright © 1995 by Mark Doty. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers. Rita Dove, “Grape Sherbet” from
Museum
(Carnegie-Mellon University Press, 1983). Copyright © 1983 by Rita Dove. Used by permission of the author. Carol Ann Duffy, “Circe” from
The World's Wife
. Copyright © 1999 by Carol Ann Duffy. Reprinted by permission of Faber and Faber, Ltd. Cornelius Eady, “Sherbet” from
The Gathering of My Name
. Copyright © 1991 by Cornelius Eady. Reprinted with the permission of the Permissions Company, Inc., on behalf of Carnegie Mellon University Press. Lynn Emanuel, “Frying Trout While Drunk” from
The Dig and Hotel Fiesta
. Copyright © 1984, 1992, 1995 by Lynn Emanuel. Reprinted with the permission of the author and the University of Illinois Press. MartÃn Espada, “The Saint Vincent de Paul Food Pantry Stomp” from
Rebellion Is the Circle of a Lovers Hands
. Reprinted with the permission of Northwestern University Press. “Coca-Cola and Coco Frio”
from
City of Coughing and Dead Radiators
. Copyright © 1993 by Martin Espada. Used by permission of W. W. Norton & Company, Inc. John Olivares Espinoza, “Economics at Gemco” from
The Date Fruit Elegies
. Reprinted by permission of Bilingual Press/Editorial Bilingüe, Arizona State University. Robert Frost, “After Apple-Picking” and “Putting in the Seed” from
The Poetry of Robert Frost
, edited by Edward Connery Lathem. Copyright 1923, 1930, 1939, © 1969 by Henry Holt and Co., Inc. Copyright 1951, © 1958 by Robert Frost. Copyright © 1967 by Lesley Frost Ballantine. Reprinted by permission of Henry Holt and Company, LLC. Margaret Gibson, “The Onion” and “Garlic” from
Earth Elegy: New and Selected Poems
. Reprinted with the permission of Louisiana State University Press. Jack Gilbert, “Hunger” and “1953” from
Collected Poems
. Copyright © 2012 by Jack Gilbert. Used by permission of Alfred A. Knopf, a division of Random House, Inc. Allen Ginsberg, “A Supermarket in California” from
Collected Poems 1947â1980
. Copyright © 1955 by Allen Ginsberg. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers. Louise Glück, “Vespers” from
The Wild Iris
. Copyright © 1992 by Louise Glück. Reprinted by permission of Harper Collins Publishers. Donald Hall, “O Cheese” and “Maple Syrup” from
Old and New Poems
. Copyright © 1990 by Donald Hall. Reprinted by permission of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company. All rights reserved. Joy Harjo, “Perhaps the World Ends Here” from
The Woman Who Fell From the Sky
. Copyright © 1994 by Joy Harjo. Used by permission of W.W. Norton & Company, Inc. Robert Hass, “Meditation at Lagunitas” from
Praise
. Copyright © 1979 by Robert Hass. “Poem with a Cucumber in It” from
Time and Materials: Poems 1997â2005
. Copyright © 2007 by Robert Hass. Both reprinted by permission of Harper Collins Publishers. Terrance Hayes, “Sonnet” from
Hip Logic
. Copyright © 2002 by Terrance Hayes. Used by permission of Penguin, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. Seamus Heaney, “Blackberry-Picking” from
Opened Ground: Selected Poems 1966â1996
. Copyright © 1998 by Seamus Heaney. “Oysters” from
Field Work
. Copyright © 2009 by Seamus Heaney. Excerpt from “Clearances” from
Selected Poems 1966â1987
. Copyright © 1987 by Seamus Heaney. All reprinted by permission of the Noonday Press/Farrar, Straus & Giroux, LLC and Faber & Faber, Ltd. Brenda Hillman “Food” from
Bright Existence
. Copyright © 1993 by Brenda Hillman. Reprinted by permission of Wesleyan University Press,
www.wesleyan.edu/wespress
. Jane Hirshfield, “Spell to Be Said After Illness” from
Lives of the Heart
. Copyright © 1997 by Jane Hirshfield. “It Was Like This: You Were Happy” from
After
. Copyright © 2006 by Jane Hirshfield. “A Sweetening All Around Me as It Falls” from
The October Palace
. Copyright © 1994 by Jane Hirshfield. All reprinted by permission
of Harper Collins Publishers. Tony Hoagland, “Jet” from
Donkey Gospel
. Copyright © 1998 by Tony Hoagland. Reprinted with the permission of the Permissions Company, Inc., on behalf of Graywolf Press,
www.graywolfpress.org
. Linda Hogan, “Potatoes” from
Seeing Through the Sun
. Copyright © 1985 by Linda Hogan. Reprinted with the permission of the University of Massachusetts Press. Garrett Hongo, “Yellow Light” from
Yellow Light
. Copyright © 1982 by Garrett Hongo. Reprinted by permission of Wesleyan University Press,
www.wesleyan.edu/wespress
. Linton Hopkins, “Ode to Butter.” Reprinted with the permission of the author. Langston Hughes, “I, Too, Sing America” from
The Collected Poems of Langston Hughes
, edited by Arnold Rampersad and David Roessel. Copyright © 1994 by the Estate of Langston Hughes. Used by permission of Alfred A. Knopf, a division of Random House, Inc. Richard Hugo, “Degrees of Gray in Philipsburg” and “The Freaks at Spurgin Road Field” from
Making Certain It Goes On: The Collected Poems of Richard Hugo
. Copyright © 1973 by Richard Hugo. Used by permission of W. W. Norton & Company, Inc. Lynda Hull, “Night Waitress” from
Collected Poems
. Copyright © 2006 by the Estate of Lynda Hull. Reprinted with the permission of the Permissions Company, Inc., on behalf of Graywolf Press,
www.graywolfpress.org
. Honorée Jeffers, “The Gospel of Barbeque” f rom
The Gospel of Barbecue
. Copyright © 2000 by Honorée Fanonne Jeffers. Reproduced by permission of the Kent State University Press. Jane Kenyon, “At the IGA: Franklin, New Hampshire,” “Potato,” “Fat,” and “Eating the Cookies” from
Collected Poems
. Copyright © 2005 by the Estate of Jane Kenyon. Reprinted with the permission of the Permissions Company, Inc. on behalf of Graywolf Press,
www.graywolfpress.org
. Galway Kinnell, “Blackberry Eating” from
Mortal Acts, Mortal Words
. Copyright © 1980, renewed 2008 by Galway Kinnell. Reprinted by permission of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company. All rights reserved. August Kleinzahler, “Christmas in Chinatown” from
The Strange Hours Travelers Keep
. Copyright © 2004 by August Kleinzahler. Reprinted by permission of Farrar, Straus & Giroux, LLC. Yusef Komunyakaa, “Blackberries,” “Sugar,” and “Banking Potatoes” from
Pleasure Dome: New and Collected Poems
. Copyright © 2001 by Yusef Komunyakaa. Reprinted by permission of Wesleyan University Press,
www.wesleyan.edu/wespress
. Ted Kooser, “Applesauce” from
Delights
&
Shadows
. Copyright © 2004 by Ted Kooser. Reprinted with the permission of the Permissions Company, Inc., on behalf of Copper Canyon Press,
www.coppercanyonpress.org
. Philip Larkin, “Party Politics” from
The North Ship
. Copyright © 1973 by Philip Larkin. Reprinted by permission of Farrar, Straus & Giroux, LLC and Faber & Faber, Ltd. Dorianne Laux, “A Short History of the
