New World Nightmare

Posted: October 30, 2015 by daphna in Uncategorized

by Don Franks

One day, or night,supermarketworkers

when I least expect it,

They’ll come.

All the ones

who grow and pick and pack the tiny red neat bright tomatoes

shell the ground nuts, turn their blood and sweat into my wine

discard the doubtful salad leaves

trip over bearing clumps of heavy green bananas

brew, can, forklift, shelfstack chill my beer, drive all the trucks

spin out the smiley miles of shining plastic bags,

One day they’ll come, to settle the account

“I payed the right amount.

When I had strolled the air conditioned cloister until I was done

I held my magic card up.

According to the law.

Why are you coming now, you merciless assassins

What for?”


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