All The Lands Are one with a Very Deep Ocean on Top
That’s when I slapped this guy and couldn’t stop.
I am putting the brakes on my trap.
I am wielding the leather of my strap.
The day’s end gorges then lapses.
I stumbled into the restaurant that then collapsed.
I survived but the cook didn’t.
Now I am left to cook all the dishes.
But there’s no kitchen left, no dinning room.
There are bread lines.
Look.
I made this bread for the men in the breadlines
In the oven that doesn’t work. I baked it
In the amber sun that glowed at a million degrees Celsius.
It is a honey-cake, a milk and honey-cake. Taste it.
Bring it around to your women and children. It will never diminish
If it is eaten to waste,
I’ll come round with more.
I am putting the brakes on my trap.
I am wielding the leather of my strap.
The day’s end gorges then lapses.
I stumbled into the restaurant that then collapsed.
I survived but the cook didn’t.
Now I am left to cook all the dishes.
But there’s no kitchen left, no dinning room.
There are bread lines.
Look.
I made this bread for the men in the breadlines
In the oven that doesn’t work. I baked it
In the amber sun that glowed at a million degrees Celsius.
It is a honey-cake, a milk and honey-cake. Taste it.
Bring it around to your women and children. It will never diminish
If it is eaten to waste,
I’ll come round with more.
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by Deborah Schwartz
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