The Fruit-Seller

I detest the monotony
of peeling off rinds of yesterdays
with a hope of procuring
cherished seeds.

You get up early, rush to the wholesalers,
load your van and spend an entire day arguing
with people in quest of bargain. Shylocks, all!

Take it or leave it, Sirs, the price
cannot be made cheaper.

Lord knows how shall I repay the loan,
how shall I recover my home from mortgage.

One polished gentleman with a camera in hand
asks me to pose beside the apple-pyramid.

I burst out laughing.