Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

David Brooks

Strange Fruit

Strange Fruit

Strange Fruit

I dreamt I was a tree
covered with strange fruit.
Well, no, I lie:
there was no dream,
there was no tree

but what am I to do
with these dark things
breaking out about me,
splitting,
oozing with sap?
Close

Strange Fruit

I dreamt I was a tree
covered with strange fruit.
Well, no, I lie:
there was no dream,
there was no tree

but what am I to do
with these dark things
breaking out about me,
splitting,
oozing with sap?

Strange Fruit

Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère