When life hands you lemon flavored gummy bears, then drive. The dancing bear turned into the gold bear turned into the gummy bear. The illusion of travel, the illusion of being a turtle in a Walmart parking lot, the stereotyped behavior of animals in the zoo. The pineapple flavored gummy bears are clearer, sometimes, the grape flavor is colorless. This sweet and squeezable candy can be organic and/or vegan when the gelatin is replaced with pectin. What hallucination makes lemons taste yellower than pineapples?
ha you sign gnash un-
less ananas ne parlent pas
plus airplanes bear fruit
I bring you bears and raspberries.
only beet juice blood
not ethidium bromide
pink-red dye cast bears
Anatomy of a red gummy bear, if you think mashed raspberries resemble blood, then you have never seen blood, mammalian blood. Nantucket red is the converse of hunting pinks. Blood is neither magenta nor blue, it is brown as the water from the well at Hibid Farm. The old bottom of the old gate was scalpel sharp aluminum, I think. The iron-rich water we used to wash down the wash stall after the obsidian pony cut open her femoral artery. It was red pear liquid everywhere and covering everyone standing there. She did not die, but oh my blood!
The Greening of the Bears
hay and strawberries
someday, the stems, the hairy
leaves gummy bears green
Not the red of beets or cranberries for these candies; anatomy of a strawberry gummy bear is liquid tsavorite garnets for organs. Gummy bears and arabinose and ribose were all named for gum arabic, resin from the acacia tree. Safer to extract the deoxyribonucleic acid from strawberries than make gummy bears at home. The body of the problem is glucose. My sister gave me a recipe for preparing strawberry DNA; her ingredients are frozen strawberries, shampoo, table salt, ethanol or isopropanol. All the required equipment can be found in the kitchen: coffee-filter, funnel, sealable sandwich bags. Like dissolves like when the whitish strands of DNA are extracted from strawberries, the liquid left behind is red.
Ginger Bears with the Wifey
fire, corn, fire, foyer,
fire, corn, fire, fruit, corn, fire, foyer,
fire, corn, fire, foyer
Of food and fire-pit, I peel and de-caterpillar the corn for the wifey. We are celebrating our eleventh anniversary with corn and steel colored wool. She makes me cry with wasabi; she makes me cry with laughter. In honor of the painting we call big ass bun buns and fruit. Always replace the word vegetable with festival; it is more knowable than ananas banane orangensaft.
Is ginger root a festival? She knows the week to buy me crystallized ginger root that has been dipped in dark chocolate. We reimagine the orange gummy bear as ginger root instead of fruit.
When she asks me how it feels to come out of the ginger paper bag, I reply that first is first and second is second with respect to the roundabouts. Do you think they are going to come over and ask us to stop saying corn and fire?
The Quaker Kind
If there were a blueberry gummy bear, it would be the color of the teeshirt she loved, part mother, partner in crime. Unconditional love is a human construct like blueberry leather clogs. There is something of the glass essay about us. Acid loving bilberry plants are grown with manure compost on New Jersey farms. Unconditional love is a human construct like a farm built one stall at a time. I was always about to fall in love with the mare with a blueberry gummy bear in her eye.
sour currant and sweet
blueberry pairs of gummy
bears are holding hands
“This is vintage Julia”
shit, diet pepsi
junior year pre-road kill, breast
Remember: she prefers violet syrup, and I prefer violet extract. If gelatin is used in place of agar or pectin, a beef flavor may contaminate the gummy bears. Neither black carrot juice nor grape juice concentrate may be able to cover up the beef flavor of the gelatin. I am her grape, and she is my violet gummy bear. She loves the intrigue of the painting of white eggplant surrounded by three apples. The wind loves her breasts so she is a dangerous curve. She does not back down up the hill, ever, we walk about in tropical storms and hurricanes. Forever, we would prefer to share the beach with the wind and sand and rain in place, instead of man people. We have devolved into affirmative sheep amongst the Jeep Wranglers.
Cherries to Old Nantucket
Begin with a cube of sugar in an old fashioned glass, due to the humidity all sugar here is more or less regular cubes. Hint, hint, nudge, nudge, insert holding pattern here. Muddle the sugar with bitters as with lightship baskets woven in a month’s duty of boredom. As with gummy bears, recipes disagree on the relative amounts of plain water and flavoring bitters. The oval purses, otherwise known as friendship baskets are traditionally eight inches in size large enough to hold a man’s head. Add ice cubes and rye whiskey to the glass. I hold this bulk in the corner of my elbow, this old lightship basket, house sing a stolen head. Garnish the drink with an orange or lemon twist. Is a maraschino cherry, so much more cheery than a cherry gummy bear?
finish with the fog
rolling toward the wood deck and
Sand Woman, Sour Woman
granny smith apple
blown sugar green glass apple
blowing glass essay
Sweeping a carpet, like cleaning out a stall, everyday with broom and shovel and plastic pitchfork, the paddocks too. Unconditional love is not natural and it is not what animals offer us; her horse is part magpie with bowling pin ears and four white hooves. Sour apple, sour grapes, we sit on her mother’s uneven stone steps being aware our failures, we are all women here because mares are cheaper than geldings. Sour apple, sour cherries, still blond, I hate her hair, I loved it so when it was auburn, my color, it was dyed then too, I was just young enough not to know. What the sour orange! the sour gummy bear flavors are the same as the sweet. They are covered with sour sand. This was the summer that everyone told me to make peace with my mother before she died. And I did, sort of, sew our failures together.
Julia Rose Lewis is working on her PhD in poetry at Cardiff University. When not in school, she lives on Nantucket Island and is a member of the Moors Poetry Collective. Her poems have appeared in their anthologies, 3am Magazine, Poetry Wales, and Missing Slate. Her Chapbook, Zeroing Event, is forthcoming with Zarf Poetry this autumn.