
Juan Pablo Mobili was born in Argentina and adopted by New York. His poems appeared in Tupelo Quarterly, Hanging Loose Magazine, South Florida Poetry Journal and Louisville Review, aamong others, as well as publications in Europe, Asia, Latin America, and Australia. He’s a recipient of several Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominations, and his chapbook, “Contraband,” was published in 2022. He’s also a Guest Editor for The Banyan Review.
–After “Famous” by Naomi Shihab Nye
I wish I could be a celebrity
at my local supermarket,
the talk of oranges and berries
every head of lettuce screaming
“pick me,” “pick me,” as I place
my thumb on the stems of cantaloupes
like a Pope confers a blessing, but
I’d rather remain anonymous to cold cuts,
uneasy about seeming ungrateful, but
knowing I will make enemies of what I ignore,
and I’m still moved by the ardor of fresh parsley
and the disappointed avocados
too green to be adopted by my family, pushing
gingerly my shopping cart down the red carpet
one wheel less willing to move forward,
one ankle not as ready for stardom as the other.