fromfruits
excerpts from fruits as poetry collection supervised by professor eleni sikelianos, fall 2023
About A Time I Did Not Feel Listened To
When a wasp was tangled in my hair And my grandma said
“What?” and I said
“It’s here, I see it!” and she said “Yea I’m making meatballs today”
And I said “Grandma!” and she Turned to me, frustrated,
I was crying and
The bee was a breeze away From stinging my eyeball
“I see it!” I said she said “Where?”
“Why are you complaining?”
story that is important to me
Predictable stories have a negative connotation – as if a good story is always meant to be surprising. Yet we forget that our favorite fairy tales were nothing less than part of our nightly routine, or that I used to watch Finding Nemo every day when I was a toddler without ever – ever – losing my excitement.
When predictable stories come from real life, I call them memories. And when the island smells like lamb, we call it Easter.
Red eggs and men waking up early to set up the fire. Floral long-sleeves under fall jackets and camera clicks facing flowers in bloom. Simple green salads in huge bowls, boxes of mini ice creams and crazy inventions. Fireflies and a guitar. A pool that isn’t filled yet with water cause summer season is a month or so away. Sometimes treasure hunts. Always music. Many people. A lot of wine. Aunts and uncles smoking cigarettes in secret. Secrets. Sneaking into places we’re not allowed to sneak in. an accident. Salamis. Old people. Minimal napkins.]
Doing ‘bad stuff’ isn’t as adventurous anymore. As I grew up I started to notice how no one enjoyed Easter as much as us kids did.