Fludd’s Fruit



Fludd’s Fruit
First there was pear, in itself complete…
Until dipped in deep syrup of raw dirty honey

Charged with black seeds of cardamom
Jocular dust of ginger and  rank cinnamon

No splitting in this dish, no rotting erotica
No blasphemous analogy, no metaphor for pudenda

Not yet.

Now turn up the jet.

In the hot depths float insulting sultanas
Battening on thickening vanilla elixir

What was once complete is now a mesmerised serf
A foolish fridge-simple fruit to be despised

Eat this complexity and you are perplexed
By its generous promiscuous alteration

It confounds logic.


Veronica Aldous 2016 All Rights Reserved


About Veronica Aldous

Writer and artist, Veronica is a lecturer is Fine Art and Creative Writing. Her first book of poems, 'Moon Cinema' is now available on Lulu.com. Now there is also 'Mortal' her second book.
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