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      February 5, 2024Fruit GuyJohn Wojtowicz

      Each morning my son and I pass
      an orchard on the way
      to his preschool
       
      and this morning, he asks
      what type of forest is that?
       
      and I tell him
      it’s an orchard, a fruit farm
      and he declares:
       
      Farms. Have. Animals.
       
      I tell him some farms have fruit
      but again, he insists
      that this cannot be true.
       
      And because I know
      better, I ask, who grows the fruit
      if not the farmer?
       
      And my son responds,
      the fruit guy grows the fruit.
       
      And believing I have him cornered
      I declare, a fruit guy
      is a type of farmer,
       
      but my son retorts—
      the fruit guy
      is a watermelon named Mr. Banana.
       
      I am silent
      imagining
      a humpty-dumpty-type
      watermelon
      with an unfortunate surname
      waking up
      next to his watermelon wife
      donning overalls
      and straw hat
      before heading out into his fields
      with basket
      and stepladder.
       
      And because this
      is a reality worth escaping into—
       
      I let Mr. Banana live.

      from #82 – Winter 2023

      John Wojtowicz

      “I write poetry because I don’t like fishing, but I do like casting a line into the void and throwing most of what I catch back.”

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