Katharina Fritsch's Figurengruppe
On the Museum of Modern Art's terrace
a life-size sculpture stands:
a black snake, a green St. Michael
slaying Satan, a yellow Madonna,
a black saint, a purple bishop
and a grey, grim caveman.
Surrounded by skyscrapers,
I think about its meaning:
the snake, leaving Eden,
the fight between good and evil,
religion's influence,
and our caveman roots
contrasted with today.
Patrons, perplexed and amused,
pose for photos with the figures,
not realizing their presence
completes the sculpture.
Not much has changed.
Envy
My friend finds
a spicebush caterpillar
on a red sassafras leaf,
and gathers foliage to feed it.
He'll watch it cocoon,
see the swallowtail emerge.
I want that caterpillar,
green with big black and yellow eyes.
Friends would think me lucky.
Friends would want my butterfly.
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The Bad Apple
My father buys a bushel of apples:
These will last us through the winter.
I bounce with glee.
Only eat the bruised ones, he says.
Always take a bad apple.
A miser with his prized apples,
he checks each one I choose.
One day with no one home,
I dare the dark basement,
and pick a perfect apple.
Upstairs I cut it crosswise,
and eat around the stars.
I do not fall
into Snow White slumber.
My father comes home.
I smile in innocence,
and he smiles back,
failing to see my new friend,
the serpent.
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