Archive for the 'Suzanne Roberts' Category

Posted by: Meghan C | 3rd Apr, 2008

Animal Market

Saquisali, Ecuador

A lamb is tied to the top of a bus,
bleats into the wind
in terror. Guinea pigs squeal
in a wire cage, saved

For special occasions, a delicacy.
And we have tried them, curled
crispy on a plate, claws and all.
Men with sticks prod screaming pigs,

Piled into the bed of a pickup truck.
I take a picture, a man turns,
sticks his tongue out at me.
A woman holds a pink-eyed rabbit,

Swings it by the ears. Another
woman walks toward us,
lifts her shirt, shows us
the place where a nipple

Should be, instead a gash, red
as a plum. She holds out her hand,
opens her mouth without sound.
We walk past, no longer looking.

Posted by: Dave | 3rd Apr, 2008

El Pozo

Orellana, Ecuador
          For Pamela Ramírez

An oil worker stands in front
of the early morning flames.
A smokestack penetrates a sky
swollen with water, an impending
agua cerro, a black rain falling
on a tired patch of red earth,
stinging a downriver jungle
with watery fire. A girl missing
an eye looks toward an inherited sky.

Posted by: Dave | 3rd Apr, 2008

The Falling Sky

A hot summer, a warm winter, is no evidence for global warming…And even if it is true, you get, on the one hand, perhaps less skiing; on the other hand, you get more sunshine and maybe better beach weather.” –Dr. S. Fred Singer, Global Warming Skeptic

First it was the pelicans, then airplanes.
Gray underbellies spiraled from a cobalt sky.
Then parts of sky fell, veined and wet.
On the horizon, tornadoes funneled into orange
columns, ripping the earth from sky.
A bus rumbled by empty-Its destination:
Nowhere in Particular. A woman dodged
the falling things, I clutched onto her,
called, There is no friend like a sister,
in calm or stormy weather.

She shook me off of her, told me,
You ain’t my sister, sister. Besides,
The Brain is wider than the Sky.
The crowds ran from the fall
like Dante’s sodomites avoiding fire.
They gathered in a wooden barn,
the weather vane on top desperate to follow
the wind. The mercury in the wall thermometer
bubbled silver against the glass. I wanted in,
but a man told me between the wooden slats
of the barn, Beauty is truth, truth beauty-
that is all YOU need to know.

There’s no room for you besides.
I hurried past, found an old saloon,
escaped from the hot wind outside. The bartender
shouted: NO WOMEN ALLOWED. I ran past him
and the stale stench of beer and urine,
splashed through puddles on the plywood floor.
The bartender called, Water, water
everywhere.
A shiny-faced patron slammed
his tumbler onto the bar, shattered
the glass into tiny prisms, shouted,
And nor a drop to drink!
I found
the creaky stairs, finally found the cement
basement, cool and gray, dank and dark.
A young girl waited for me there. I, she said,
have been waiting my life. She sat slumped
in a wheelchair, the legs useless, unfolding
from the hull of her hips. I told her,
The world, you know, it’s ending.
She answered. No, it ended long ago.

 

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