Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Poet Alice Fulton and an Apple Metaphor

Alice Fulton. born in Troy, NY, at the head of the Hudson River Valley in the 1960s, is one of my favorite literary artists, and has been referred to as a modern Emily Dickinson.

 In a recent issue of the New Yorker (February 13-20, 2012) she gave us, Malus Domestica, using the apple as a metaphor and crating her own words from connotations we already know. She begins, as she often does, with an earthy human dilemma:

I've come to dread the obligatory Apple Festival
where we must pledge our fealty
to the strains of folk drone music
By the shores of an impaired lake.

Where former detainees weep to see
children bobbing for apples
with their hands tied behind their backs.

Later, she writes:

Once I cherished the onceness
of every apple's blush, knowing 
we might never fall
into these forms of flesh again.

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