Mediatation on a Grapefruit

I told a friend not to long ago I was finding it difficult to connect with any of the pieces in "Poetry". I had of course spoken to soon, at first I skipped over Craig Arnold's "Mediatation on a Grapefruit", but luckily it was the last piece I read. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did.

To wake when all is possible
before the agitations of the day
have gripped you
To come to the kitchen
and peel a little basketball
for breakfast
To tear the husk
like cotton padding a cloud of oil
misting out of its pinprick pores
clean and sharp as pepper
To ease
each pale pink section out of its case
so carefully without breaking
a single pearly cell
To slide each piece
into a cold blue china bowl
the juice pooling until the whole
fruit is divided from its skin
and only then to eat
so sweet
a discipline
precisely pointless a devout
involvement of the hands and senses
a pause a little emptiness

each year harder to live within
each year harder to live without

I've formed many relationships over my life, whether it was with a piece of music, a girl, or a good book I've learned that the best, are the ones formed in a matter of seconds. Unfortunately I usually miss out on those opportunities, I forget the bands name, the author of the book, or the last four digits of the girls number(your right Ian i never get that far.) These lines were different though, from the start I was taken, carried away in its prose, I wasn't going to forget this author. Craig Arnold.

I flipped two pages and opened up the Comments section, here are the first words I read, " Its now been seven months since Craig Arnold died." He was 41... i briefly new his work, but I won't forget, because the best relationships are the ones formed in a matter of seconds.

I'll leave you with another piece of his work this is an exert from "Couple From Hell"

Here is a small café
opening for breakfast
a zinc counter catching the light
at every angle in bright rings of glitter
A cup of black coffee is placed before you
brimming with rainbow-colored foam
a packet of sugar a pat of butter
a split roll of bread
scored and toasted and still warm
The butter is just soft enough to spread
the coffee hot and sugared to perfect sweetness
the bread grilled to the palest brown
crisp but not quite dry
You tear it neatly into pieces
eat them slowly when you finish
you are exactly full

Here are bread butter and coffee
Here you are your own body
eating and drinking what you are given
as one day you in turn will be devoured
and that is all You were never the lord
of a lightless kingdom any more
than she has ever been its queen
and the world you talked each other into prison
suddenly seems to be made of glass
and your eyes see clear to the horizon
and you feel the molecules of air
part like a curtain as if to let you pass

I hope these stay with you.

TLH