gaye mcgraw gambell-peterson frolics about at age 78, pokes at myths. She is not yet weary of sticking bits of stuff onto a canvas or piling words on a page, or better yet, inviting one to dance with the other. Being awarded, published/juried-in only encourages her. Her two art/poetry chapbooks are pale leaf floating (Cherry Pie Press) and MYnd mAp (Agog Press). An East Coast person who has lived on the West Coast, she has been happy for decades in the Midwest, mostly near St. Louis MO.
Fruit plucked, fondled, eaten
in the name of Knowing. What a feast
such swallowing is. Full taste to be savored
as if it was a great fortune to be spent.
The mastication of it.
Her Kumquat’s sour flesh
wrapped in sweet rind, like morning-after sex.
Best pick. She foregoes the Love-
apple’s bruised flesh, meaty, its skin unhardened,
wrapped smoothly ‘round slimy love-seedsÑ its
invitation out of that primeval gardenÑiconic
fenced-in Plot of Love, over-ratedÑ
its ancient guilt, her disbelief in new-leafed
Eden. All of Love’s bitter-
sweet tonguing its own (just) desserts.