Green Mango Delusions

Little droplets of sweet chutney

Dribble down my chin.

Thin slices encrusted with red chilli 

Burn their fiery way down my gullet

Chunks of fruit in a chicken and coconut curry

Do a little pirouette across my dinner plate. 

Roasted with a dash of spice, water and ice

It makes me swoon in sheer delirium.

You lie scattered all over my backyard on little squares of yesterday’s news

The jars of golden oil remind me of magical Arabian nights and forty broiled thieves

The process of pickling has begun.

I trap your memory in muslin-covered bottles.

Chase your shadow in candy bars, essences and fruit leathers.

Invoke your spirit with soaps, perfumes and aerated drinks. 

When the summer has receded into the innermost whorls of the last autumn flower.

I take that last bit of pickle from the jar

And close my eyes to share the delusions

Of mad dogs and Englishmen who go out in the midday sun.