hat will lead you back. Instead
what we’ve done is take the tops off,
send them to China, ask them
to send them back as muffin tins,
plastic whistles and spinning tops,
i-beams, peat moss pots, gadgets.
Oh Virgie, don’t keep all the beets
for yourself. Help the mountain
people through the winter. That’s
your brother’s infant daughter
though he’s somewhere on a ship.
Oh Virgie, if you’ll just pass
the green blue green beans on
to the street, if you’ll block
the mine entrance, if you’ll
pay attention to the silence
in your mother’s stories,
the trees won’t fall and the bears
won’t tromp down into the city,
tired and broken, hard as
the cellar bolt, as the bun
you’ve pulled to the back
of your stern and turned away face.
You’re going to shrink up and die.
The black is in the stream.
It’s in the water. It’s in their lungs.
Go away everyone. Turn away hungry.
Skinny up or eat round powdered packaged donuts.
It doesn't matter anymore. You don't know
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