In What World
If you want to know what
happens to a dream deferred,
open up the crisper. This is
who I want to be, asparagus
and grape tomatoes and
cucumber. The fridge is
responsibility, and the pantry,
resourcefulness. In what world
will I ever use up a whole onion,
I remember thinking, ten years
ago, and this morning, it’s hmm,
almost out of onion. Groceries
are tarot cards, we can read them
like they are. You can be good
here, you can be your intentions.
If our civilization falls while we
are still alive, the Giant Eagle
is where we’ll hide. The apocalypse
gets filmed in the neighbor’s kitchen,
the mall, and the supermarket.
We will brace the doors with
whatever we can find, carts, crates,
lobster tanks. Hunger returns,
writes alive across us, flees,
approaches. Whose hunger could
we banish to the outskirts of
our village. There can be joy
in opening the crisper, finding
a third of a sweet potato on
the brink of mold or dessication.
There is still a way to save this.