I have an orange humbly
spherical
Picked recently, round, a
message
To the earth or man,
meant to fall
And I pass it to your
hand, here:
Atlantean remnant, a keen
invention
Sun in the sex of a tree,
grinning.
Condensed light brimming
With a radiant and puckering
juice.
The emperor’s astrolabe,
Mandarin,
and the Khan’s million
hordes—
Stars, round emissaries,
traded
Along with almonds,
silks, and spices.
Pierced with cloves,
hidden in saddlebags
crossed the vast Gobi
with spies,
Packed in crates, vested
in Floridian
fountains of youth and
Spanish outlaws.
Celestial dome, orange
head of heaven,
Bald pate of Baudelaire
baptized with melon
Segments insectoidal – crescent
ears –
Wrinkled and fur-lined;
moss-covered.
I have an orange here,
humbly spherical,
Admittedly like any other
globe, simple
Yet mirroring Akkadian
blueprints.
Bottomless, endless,
Man’s golden orb blossom.
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