The Sweet Taste of Passion Fruit

Lounging on chocolate brown leather
in total silence
despite the sound of my breath,
I entertained myself
on reality television
while drinking a glass of Chianti,
its burgundy potion
beckoning me to lose myself
in the truth of my reality

What would the story
of my life be

I've never tried to survive
on coconut milk or bananas
while burning from the
honest heat of the sun
on a lush tropical isle,
nor have I ever competed
to be an American Princess,
what for? who would see me
for me or hear what
my inside voice was saying

It was all so fake,
a series of untruths and whines,
transferred through electrical lines
only to be broadcast
to couch potatoes
eating buttered popcorn and chips
getting fat from their own
unfulfilled dreams,
burping from
the carbonation of their dissatisfaction
with the status quo

Where is the passion fruit you crave,
check the kitchen
maybe the refrigerator,
the market on Greedy Street
has everything for a price,
the grocer is selling them
for $1.50 a piece

You didn't really pay did you?

Now slap yourself silly
because what you seek is free,
it's all inside you

Now get up off that couch,
create your own reality
and while you're up
get me a piece of cheesecake,
heavy on the strawberries

Life is so delicious,
can't you taste the sweetness


© Sandra Hiss. Sandra Hiss is 35 years old, a mother of 2 young children, currently residing in Washington State.  She has been writing poetry since the age of 15 and was inspired to keep writing by her high school English teacher. Her work has been published online in Autographs Magazine and Cabaret New Angeles.