Doing What We Can to Get By As Flies

by Ellen Gwin

God could eat an orange whole: skin, seeds, juices and all. 
God could knock the fruit from the only branch and into the unknown.
God could create bruises that would never heal. 
God could scatter seeds so endless oranges to inhabit would grow

Or God could let the several titian fruits on the tree decay into chaos,
Where flies become lords but on a disintegrating orb
That’s honestly starting to reek.
Oh yes, God could do many things, but who knows? Not we. 

As the sunshines harder, the fruit rots more yet I cannot help but smile
The juices are fermented enough to get drunk off of…
Perhaps these string-y fibers would make a lovely scarf?
I’m Ellen in the giant orange and I guess this is my home.

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