I didn’t know jackfruit grew on treetops. How could I?
Until I received a few dancing pods in a plastic pot.
Shy, “It might smell,” my friend says. In a flickering shame.
Hesitant, she unwinds the lid. “It’s okay if you wanna pass.”

I received a few dancing pods in a plastic pot on a Wednesday
My fingers slimy, like holding a dead frog with bony tongs
Hesitant. “It’s okay if you wanna pass.” There’s no wrong.
I bit hard into the sweet, stretchy fibers, nipping off the seed.

My fingers slimy, like placing a dead frog with bony tongs
“Tastes like an over-ripe banana.” My debts of intellect rang.
I bit hard into the stretchy fibers, knowing nothing, how to eat.
Once again, I never tried to feel the ripping of West from East.

“Like over-ripe banana. Or mango.” A grain of memory clanged
“They import it secretly from Bangladesh.” Sweetness condemned.
I never felt the longing of West from the East or distance of the seas.
Not knowing someone’s gustatory-specks swell, salivate at its thought

“They import it secretly from Bangladesh.” Sweetness banned?
“Nani had it last when she was 17.” Chewing comes to a halt.
Someone’s gustatory-speck swell, sweat, salivate at its thought?
“Nani knows how to make katthal ki sabzi.” And katthal

“Nani had it last when she was 17.” What a sweet dream.
Why? “She had to flee.” Where? “To the land of the free.”
“She knows how to make katthal ki sabzi.” She remembers still?
“How does one forget?” Just not enough to make a dish this time

She had to flee. To the land of the free? Where would that be?
Where: granddaughter thinks 71 times before easing the “stinky” bribe.
Not enough to make a dish this time? But enough to share with an outcast?
My stupid arse! Don’t know how many states shredded to unroot a plant.

Free? Where her granddaughter still thinks of it as a “stinky” bribe?
“It might smell,” my friend says. Smell of the past? I ask with a smile.
My stupid arse! Didn’t know shredded states grew on unrooted plants
It took a while. Now I know that is why jackfruit grows on treetops.