rubber pear

poetry and prose by Gordon Marshall


I had a dream where Mom offered me a pear. I took a bite. It had a strange taste, but I kept on eating. I thought of all the leftovers she had given me, and how hard it was to decide when a certain item has turned--what its shelf life is. The pear had a rubbery texture, so eventually I said, “Mom, this pear tastes like rubber.” She said, “then don’t eat it.” So I threw it out.


Illusions


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Illusion Comique


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Lori-Ann
Book of Dreams


Cycle


Monet
Picasso
Renoir


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June 1994
June-July 2003


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