Poem: For Selene

photo credit borgenmagazine.com

For Selene

by Shannon Laws

 

The Earth’s weavers are busy
their low wages and long hours
fruit of their labors stolen
by mouthless machines

nature weaves for us a
marvelous blanket
new every morning
No one questions the cost

We stand peacefully in line
wait for our treats
listen to hits of the 80’s
to drown out the sound
of meat grinding

Poem: Broth

sizvideos-water-hole
Water hole in Portugal, Serra da Estrela, Covão dos Conchos. in summer

Broth

Ten dollars an hour for twelve hours
—watch, stir, refill, stir again and watch.
My tool a large paddle punishes coconut clumps
Beats at them and their natural oil-tendency.
Tomorrow I’ll beat at raisins
Somebody’s gotta do it.

My day hovers at various levels of self-induced hypnosis
I’m on a lake of coconut directing my boat to stay still, hold still
do nothing but wait my turn to go down the cyclone

Leave the job to muscle memory
exit the body to float above the nation
visit the places and people of my imagination
I am someone else.
I am somewhere else.
A person who eats expensive granola

Meat cooks in water, bleeds out juice
Vegetables roll with the bubbles, lose their color
a slow boil
a long boil
add noodles
Soup