I am scalping the pineapple
at its tufted crown. Bringing a sharp
fish knife down
each knotty side, peeling the hide
in strips to get at all
that is juicy and gold. When in company,
I whittle it into manageable cubes
of fruit-meat, fork it carefully
into my open mouth, palm cupped
beneath my chin to catch errant drips.
But alone, I lay waste to courtesy,
snatch up that sunny
flesh as though it were
corn, palming each end
so my teeth can do
their good work, side to side,
and I perform a conquest
dance in my kitchen, with the
blood of ananas dripping
down my throat, and everything
I encounter, so sticky.
Afterwards I am pure, full
of the best plant-food imaginable,
and I nap on the chaise lounge
like a queen, like a g-ddamn queen
naked in the sun that obeys her,
with all courtiers eyes averted
from her beauty, so rich with gold
and her army’s command and all
the pineapples across the land.
Quinn Rennerfeldt (she/they) is a queer poet, parent, and partner earning her MFA at San Francisco State University. Their heart is equally wed to the Pacific Ocean and the Rocky Mountains. Her work can be found in Cleaver, Mom Egg Review, SAND, elsewhere, and is forthcoming in A Velvet Giant and Salamander. They are the recipient of the 2022 Harold Taylor Prize, sponsored by the Academy of American Poets. Her chapbook Sea Glass Catastrophe was released in 2020 by Francis House Press. They are the Editor-in-Chief of Fourteen Hills, a graduate-run literary journal with SFSU.