Tag: food

Discover Food by slam poets, cowboy poets, and literary giants inspired by the state of Arizona on AZpoetry.com!

a boy eating a watermelon

Green & Red by Ashley Naftule

“Green & Red” by Ashley Naftule

When I was six,
my favorite part about eating watermelon
was harvesting the black seeds.

My parents would cut off the green skin
so I could slip my tongue into ruby flesh
and pluck out the seeds.

I’d store them in my cheeks,
piling up one black teardrop after another
until I had enough ammunition stocked up
to machinegun my sister’s friends.

My parents would always tell me
to stop shooting them.
I said I wasn’t:
I was trying to kiss them with
my seeds.

I tripped over a curb
the day before my seventh birthday.
On the ground, my head near the concrete,
I cried as my knee oozed watermelon red.

I stuck my fingers through the cracked shell,
feeling for the seeds in my legs.
Imagine my horror when I found nothing there.

About the poetry Ashley Naftule

“Green & Red” was originally published on FormerCactus on September 2018.


“Green & Red” by Ashley Naftule: Poem Summary & Analysis

Ashley Naftule’s poem “Green & Red” is a tender, surreal reflection on childhood innocence, memory, and the body’s transformation over time. What begins as a nostalgic recollection of summer watermelon rituals gradually evolves into an introspective meditation on loss, physical pain, and the imagination of a child confronting a world that doesn’t always align with fantasy.


Summary of “Green & Red”

The poem opens in a summer memory: a six-year-old’s delight in eating watermelon not for the fruit itself, but for the small, black seeds embedded in its flesh. The child meticulously gathers the seeds in their cheeks, transforming them into playful “ammunition” for spitting at their sister’s friends—an act described with both mischief and innocence. When their parents scold them, the child insists they’re not being aggressive, but affectionate: they are “trying to kiss them with my seeds.”

The mood shifts abruptly as the speaker recalls falling the day before their seventh birthday. With their head against the concrete and knee bloodied, the child’s imagination seeks comfort in metaphor: the red of the injury mirrors watermelon flesh. In a quietly devastating moment, they reach into the wound expecting to find seeds—symbols of playfulness and continuity—but instead, they find “nothing there.”


Analysis: The Imagination of Injury and the Loss of Innocence

A Child’s Imaginative World

The poem brilliantly captures the tactile and sensory experience of being a child. Naftule uses vivid imagery: “slip my tongue into ruby flesh,” “black teardrop,” “knee oozed watermelon red”—each phrase evokes not just the memory of a fruit, but the immersive physicality of childhood. Watermelon becomes more than a summer treat—it becomes a medium of love, war, and language.

Seeds as Symbols of Growth and Emotion

The seeds function symbolically throughout the poem. In the early stanzas, they are tangible tokens of affection and fun. Their black color and teardrop shape hint at deeper emotional resonances—grief, memory, desire—that come into focus later. The seeds, once stored in the cheeks and used playfully, become a metaphor for expression and emotional release.

The Shocking Absence

When the speaker falls and bleeds, their instinct is to look inside for those same seeds—as if their very being was made of fruit and joy. But the stark realization that “there [was] nothing there” marks a turning point: a moment of disillusionment and embodied reality. The absence of seeds is not just a physical lack, but a loss of innocence. It’s a subtle and moving depiction of the first time a child realizes their internal world may not match the real one.


Ashley Naftule’s Voice and Style

Naftule’s writing often navigates the boundary between the surreal and the personal, the whimsical and the tragic. In “Green & Red,” their poetic voice captures a moment both ordinary and profound: a scraped knee that becomes an existential crisis in a child’s mind. Their ability to ground surreal emotion in physical imagery is what makes this poem resonate long after the final line.


Discover More Work by Ashley Naftule

Ashley Naftule is a playwright, poet, and journalist based in Phoenix, Arizona. Their poetry often blends speculative themes, queer identity, and emotionally vivid storytelling. To explore more about their work, visit Ashley Naftule’s poet bio page on AZpoetry.com.

Mac and Cheese by Kevin Flanagan | AZpoetry.com

“Fancy Mac and Cheese” by Kevin Flanagan

My mother used to cook for me
Which bears comment, these days
Dinner was a regimental affair
throughout my teen years.

Spaghetti,
jarred sauce,
garlic bread
and bagged salad.

Beef tacos-
Shredded lettuce,
Diced tomatoes,
and bagged cheese.

These are the dishes
we ate every week,
With the precision of
A swiss timekeeping device.

But once a year,
On the day of my birth
She would make this one thing
Especially for me.

Rotini pasta,
in a casserole dish
With squares of diced ham
and four kinds of cheese

Dusted with breadcrumbs
And baked in the oven
Till it settled in place
As a thick white brick

It was served with a spatula
In a square on my plate
Where it would slump in exaustion
And collapse on itself

I used to devour it
Excited for novelty
And the demarcation of time
Baked into its core

She still makes it for me
Every year on my birthday
Delivered in tupperware
Clear bottom, blue top

The dish has no name
But the one that she gave it
“Fancy mac and cheese”
Or “pasta putting on airs”

Nowadays I freeze it,
(Damn my glycemic index)
And birthdays are less
Of a celebration anymore

And on a day when my heartstrings
Twang for a moments nostalgia
I thaw that pale casserole
And set the oven to broil

In the heat, how it changes
As it slowly melts down
I look more and more like it
Every single new year

My palette has changed
Since I first said “I love this”
And moved towards the bitter,
As one often does.

But of this there’s no question,
I’ll defend with last breath:
My mother’s mac and cheese
Puts others to death.

About the poet Kevin Flanagan

Kevin Flanagan found his writing style while creating improv theater and performance art in the Phoenix, Arizona area. Recently published for science fiction and speculative fiction in various online journals, his poetry offers a unique flavor to the history of Arizona poets.