Human Eyes by Kara Krewer

 

Look closely at the pear’s flesh
and the sunken mark of your thumb,
an unnerving acceptance.

Star-shaped cells
that make the fruit crunch:
sclereids, from skleros, meaning hard.

So many ancient Greek philosophers
telling ancient dick jokes—
Skleros! Ha!

Also, sclera, pupil’s white tunic.
Touch my eye. It is actually
quite tough,

though it is the part the ants
eat first, the sweetest, easiest
way in.

 

KARA KREWER grew up on an orchard in rural Georgia. She is currently a Wallace Stegner Fellow in poetry at Stanford University and holds an MFA from Purdue University. Her poems have appeared in or are forthcoming from The Georgia Review, Prairie Schooner, The Journal, Prodigal, Ninth Letter, and elsewhere.