I rub the neon rind
Of the juicy clementine,
A fragrant sun I cradle in my palm.
It croons of life so sweet,
And it’s mighty nice to eat,
That thick-skinned ball from California’s groves.
It’s coated with a shine
Of chemicals that rhyme
With names of third-world countries I can’t say.
I’m sure it’s safe to eat,
(If no substances have leached)
Into the soil where this gem was grown.
See—the crop must have been good,
For they all look as they should,
And taste the same and share their DNA.
And since we’ve cloned a sheep,
(To match the people that we feed)
It’s no trouble to clone a few small fruits.
Why, in only a short time
Instead of me in line,
My double will be buying this instead.
Caitlin is an English major at Grove City College who has too many half-filled journals lying around. When she’s not writing, she can be found eating pizza, watching Seinfeld, or listening to music.