Carrots Uncovered
Another February grey day when the sky sucks
any color that isn't deeply ingrained
right out of everything
an eighteen wheeler's load of naked carrots
startles colorful and vulnerable
in the open air
chocked full heaping over the truck's confines
the incredible orange heap rolls and slides
some slip beneath the swaying traffic lights
like goldfish gasping to the asphalt
and the urgent awareness for a thing out of place
rises with barely any invitation.
Though I've seen carrot mounds piled for miles
filling the air with Bugs Bunny perfume
in January in the Rio Grande Valley
swollen with lifelong accumulations
of soul and air and water and electrical emissions
all the things in that region
that provide leukemia
to one child in five
Not washed not waxed nor boxed or bagged
hauled far from home in open trucks
colorful skins soaked in exhaust
scratch follows itch of chemo'ed bald head
always highways north
so far from their homes
so close to mine.
W. Joe Hoppe
............from his book GALVANIZED
No comments:
Post a Comment