Posted by
Tarabud
The Market Poem
Dec 10, 2006
The market
Going for the peppers and the corn,
You don't mind another death.
It's all too clear the tomatoes are out of season
But they keep appearing, believing in
Hothouses, greenhouses, Eurospray,
We eat them whole and ripe
Like we swallow so many lies of our government.
It's genetically modified, not organic you say?
Your soul feels half-truths, the broken pieces,
All cooked good and through.
It's winter and all the vegetables are a perfect red and green,
A miracle to our civilization, a hubris to our fading time.
The spuds and pumpkins are waiting to be rescued from the bins,
And you oblige because you can't stand their screams.
You show mercy and take them to a quiet place.
The leafy greens are shimmering with molecules of water,
Each surface a kaleidoscope of nature's pride. We take it all in,
We give no thanks, we make no blessing, we are consumers,
Fine and smooth inside, ready to bleed on the outside.
They say we are evolving like the apples and peaches,
Digesting lactose we still need a holiday from ourselves.
We are too far mesmerized by the hype, the media making us dull.
Such abundance saved from the heat of the seasons, and
Nature now our bride through the market.
In the lost garden, She is singing at our glimmer of awakening, ever
Patient, generous, and forgiving.
Like we swallow so many lies of our government.
It's genetically modified, not organic you say?
Your soul feels half-truths, the broken pieces,
All cooked good and through.
It's winter and all the vegetables are a perfect red and green,
A miracle to our civilization, a hubris to our fading time.
The spuds and pumpkins are waiting to be rescued from the bins,
And you oblige because you can't stand their screams.
You show mercy and take them to a quiet place.
The leafy greens are shimmering with molecules of water,
Each surface a kaleidoscope of nature's pride. We take it all in,
We give no thanks, we make no blessing, we are consumers,
Fine and smooth inside, ready to bleed on the outside.
They say we are evolving like the apples and peaches,
Digesting lactose we still need a holiday from ourselves.
We are too far mesmerized by the hype, the media making us dull.
Such abundance saved from the heat of the seasons, and
Nature now our bride through the market.
In the lost garden, She is singing at our glimmer of awakening, ever
Patient, generous, and forgiving.
