Daniel Dowe’s most recent poem to appear here was Untitled 2 (October 2011).
Opening
By Daniel Dowe
A small compact clementine, indented with my thumb.
How far to push, to squeeze, til the rind breaks through.
Once I was a martyr to the sculpted life. Never stepped off the platform,
Carved by my own chisel, unreleased from my own block.
In fact, imprisoned by my artist.
But with the same hand, the fruit splits, spits, and sprays.
Liquid, runny, messy.
Citrus cuts marble.
And orange craves company.
I love this.