January 13th, 2011

(no subject)

The one great advantage of this new era in which one finds oneself is, unquestionably, the riot of fruit that comes packed in truckloads-- shipped, one imagines, from Africa and the Indies. All winter long, the glow of pebbled oranges. The papery rind, and then the pulp: sweet, if one could eat it. Though I can't, of course. Eat it, I mean. In the yellow light of all these supermarché sections I go wandering, almost, at times, hungry...