Friday, July 18, 2008

food shelf (draft)

a young mother
listens with wide, careful eyes
to the new rules:
if you woke up before 7
with 2 kids under 4
and no man,
you must present yourself here
between 11 and 3.
bring proof of address.
you get 15 pounds
per adult 18 to 54; and another 15
for each child over 10,
and whatever we can find
for the babies.
get here early.

people who come for food in pairs
and small groups
stand straight, make eye contact -- together they are the people.
it's better if they front me a little, count the cans.
it's better if they say, beans again?
I don't need these -- no peanut butter either,
no instant potatoes and no damned rice.

this is what i eat at home;
but what i give
the people leaves them hungry,
because they have
no choice --
and we call that empty place
in their stomachs
incentive.

1 comment:

Doug P. Baker said...

Hey Jennifer S.,

That is an awesome poem! "we call that empty place in their stomachs incentive." I've been on both sides of that food line. I prefer a little choice!