Eating Mandarin oranges
In the morning, we
Find the oppressed fruit is
Fighting its genetic mutation; has
One small seed that
Clicks against your teeth.
One seed that
We will not plant, that
Would not grow in our
Yard of hemlock and chickweed.
One seed,
One small protest that
Ends quietly at
The breakfast table and
Bears no fruit–
Save for the sudden smiles that
Bloom at our lips as
We realize the dumb,
Unfocused will of
Nature, to be
Born again and again.