Sunday, March 25, 2012

Poem, Fed Killed and Sold, 3-25-12

The small town has aged
Its townspeople old
Guarding the validity
of not choosing to roam
Stay the same course
as your family has done
Drink on the weekends
Until your time has come.

The stewards the pillars
of a small community
Standing in line to stage
Their mortality
Each in a different
home of the Lord,
Each from identities
known from when born
Each falling one by one
Shocking to none
When all you see daily
Is obituaries strung.

I left the umbilical
to flee the morose
the rural parades
death as if we're on parole
from tragedy, disease or
being mowed down
as if we were the
next year's crop
fed killed and sold.

--EVE Featherstone

Adjective: Relating to or affecting the navel or umbilical cord: "the umbilical artery".
Extremely close; inseparable: "their umbilical attachment to the state".

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