Juicy pineapple that distinct Mwiinilunga sort
Eating unashamedly with face contorted
Nector running down my chin and streaming to my elbow
Deep prodigious sensations
joyous wonder that anything could be so good.
It’s all mine
I will eat it
Angling the knife to blot out the brown blotches
that seem only surface
With every scrape of the knife the hole goes deeper still
The rotting brownness taints my pineapple
Misshapen with holes from scraping.
Throw it away!
you do not deserve this.
Pineapple stands on my white clean plate
battered and messy yet innocent looking
Begs for a chance
I relish this pineapple’s familiar flavor
No contest to tasteless supermarket imports.
Forget about it
it’s not worth the effort
Too many brown patches
Too many holes from scrapping
How to love this malady of maladjustment
reminiscences of pleasure so intense
How could they be from a place of NOT love.
Pineapple’s sweet scent lingers long in my nostrils
etching firmly in my memory
Teary eyed I turn my back on the pineapple
Left to the elements
It stands no longer on the clean white plate
but my discoloured, chipped, disgustingly stained one
I was always the blemished one after all.
Chilufya Chileshe is a 35years old Zambian born woman. She has worked in international development for over 13 years and has vast experience in pro-poor policy advocacy and engagement. She writes poems as a hobby and as a useful outlet for the frustrations of the world today.