THE APPLE I TOOK TO NEW YORK

Oh, apples!

Aren’t we just axles without handles?

Daily the rounded coloured things

Drop all around us and form golden rings.

Call it a seed

You plant it for a breed

Call it a fruit

It fits squarely into your suit.

Fondle it

Bite it

Chew it

Spit it

Swallow it

Cook it

Oven it

Preserve

Parcel it

It’s still it.

They’re always there for you to pick

They’re there for you to prick

They’re there for you to trick

They’re even there for you to kick

They’ll still do the trick.

 Hanging from the branch

It’s your red bee from the ranch

Then whenever you want

You can get the whole bunch

And begin to munch.

Carry it in your bag to New York

And it becomes the Big Apple

Sooner or later

Apple offers you a bid for it

And you come away from the Big Apple

Without your apple

Appleless.