The Adirondack Review
How to Catch a Mango in the Act


The signs are clear if you care to see them:
Plain all winter, the tree will take the sun
as its mirror, run a limb over its trunk
to test unwanted freight, what's loose or still firm,
commit to dyeing the ripest age out.
Then it will implement exercise
-- tai chi, maybe, or deceptive Pilates --
sweep the squirrels off their paws with bouts
of muscular buds not yet burst into fruit.
Watch it stretch and preen under the creep
of false hope, smack its itchy lips with sap.
Don't wait. Check the pockets of its suits,
go through its wallet for credit card ruse.
Assume only the promise of flesh and juice.

Jen Karetnick







The St. Lawrence Book Award for a first collection of short stories or poems
The St. Lawrence Book Award for a first collection of short stories or poems
The St. Lawrence Book Award for a first collection of short stories or poemsThe St. Lawrence Book Award for a first collection of short stories or poemsThe St. Lawrence Book Award for a first collection of short stories or poems
The St. Lawrence Book Award for a first collection of short stories or poems
Freelance food-and-travel writer  JEN KARETNICK'S poems are forthcoming or have recently appeared in Valparaiso Poetry Review, Gastronomica, Alimentum Journal, Georgetown Review, Cimarron Review, North American Review and others. Her chapbook, Necessary Salt, is forthcoming from Pudding House Publications. She lives in Miami with her husband and 2 children, 2 dogs, 4 cats and 14 mango trees.