Six Poems for Poetry Chicago

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          The rind (also called the skin) of the lemon is difficult to
               understand.
          It goes around itself in an oval quite unlike the orange which, as
               anyone can tell, is a fruit easily to be eaten.
          It can be crushed into all sorts of extracts which are
               still not lemons. Oranges have no such fate. They're pretty
               much the same as they were. Culls become frozen orange
               juice. The best oranges are eaten.
          It's the shape of the lemon, I guess that causes trouble. It's
               ovalness, it's rind. This is where my love, somehow, stops.


published 1965
copyright © 1975 by the Estate of Jack Spicer
reprinted from The Collected Books of Jack Spicer with the permission of Black Sparrow Press
all materials reprinted with the kind permission of Robin Blaser