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Derek Maiolo
I've spent all afternoon in the front lawn
eating slices of watermelon and sipping
mint tea convinced this cannot last
surely the tax collector will come
any minute or the landlord
in his shiny Mercedes demanding
of me money or time
but no . . .
I bite
I sip
slowly
at dusk, crows convene
in the neighbor’s oak
cackling in some kind
of debate maybe, or gossip
a stranger passes, stops,
says she’s never seen
anything quite like it
oh, and could I
spare a slice?
Bananas show the worst of it
thirty minutes
in my tote bag
and the yellow skin
has bruised
beyond appeal
oh
the poor
wounded banana
if only
the world were softer
maybe we both
could heal
Derek Maiolo (he/him) received his MFA from Chatham University, where he served as the
2021-2023 Margaret L. Whitford Fellow. His writing appears in The Baltimore Review, The
Denver Post, The Portland Review, High Country News, and elsewhere. He lives with his
boyfriend in Pittsburgh, where the two argue over curtains, stoneware, and the culinary merit of
walnuts.
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