king of fruit

it sat there in all its glory,

yellow and creamy.

the uncle wields the parang,

cradles the precious fruit.

*ka-cha*

he cracks it open.

its pungent smell fills the air.

he offers it to eager consumers,

who either gobble it down,

or turn away from its exotic taste,

unable to accept its excellence

it has its seasons,

it has its high prices.

but its loyal fans,

queue in the heat,

bargain till no days end.

they just want to eat,

the magnificent fruit;

the durian