Still Life Poem by Laurence Overmire

The masters all painted
Baskets of fruit
Why?
What is it about fruit
That demanded such passionate expression?
Was there a lucrative market of fruit lovers to exploit?

Personally
Fruit doesn't bake my cake if you know what I mean.
Now
Naked babes in the grass
That
I can understand
But apples on a dish?
What is it they're trying to say?
Do they tempt us like Eve
'Buy the apple painting, Maude, big, delicious, juicy, red apples on a
porcelain white dish. Buy it, buy it, buy'
Whisper the artist's serpent strokes.

Or maybe
'Twas some deep psychological need
That compelled the depiction of
Fruit.
There they sit
Inert
In a bowl, or basket or dish.
The artist as pear.
Brimming life
Immobile.
Contained within-
A precious seed
Waiting...


(Previously published in Art Villa, Aug.1999)