Day 194 – peaches – 1, 2

Sunday, March 13, 2011
Day 194
8:43 pm

peaches – 1, 2


She said her name was Cinnamon.
I laughed and told her my name was
She nodded and believed me because
her birth name really is Cinnamon.


I hung a peach on a cloud over David Mas’ shelf
in Fresno.

It stayed there for days, growing tired, wrinkled
and aged.

He asked me why I just let it sit there and let
it rot.

I told him he wrote the loveliest book I knew about
a peach.

I had taken each of his pages and bit each paragraph
to pulp.

What was the point, then, of another peach, another
single utterance?

He looked at me for my ridiculousness and had me take
another bite.

What was the point of my book, he asked, if not for you
to eat?

What was the point of my farm, he asked, if not for you
to write?

Peach juice dribbled down my chin and I asked to read
it again.

(title from Narinda)
[#2 inspired by David Mas Masumoto’s
Epitaph for a Peach]


About traciakemi

traci akemi kato-kiriyama - inter/multi-disciplinary theatre/performance artist, arts educator, cultural worker, community organizer. Tuesday Night Project; theatre, performance, writing, and teaching projects with many organizations and artists including: zero 3; Edge of The World for Asian Arts Initiative in Philadelphia and the National Asian American Theatre Festival in New York; "PULL" with Kennedy Kabasares in San Francisco; Nobuko Miyamoto and Great Leap Collaboratory I; TeAda; NCRR; Oymun's 11. Playwright for "Chasing Dad - a performance of a reading about a play i'm writing" presented by Inside the Ford for the Ford's Summer Playwright series. View all posts by traciakemi

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