April 7, 2011

Poem #7

African Mother Carrying Her Child  (Wikimedia Commons) 



what thirty american dollars will buy

five dark godiva tulips
obwisana sa na na
one hundred lindor truffles
the rock it crushed my hand, grandma
two harry & david bunnies
obwisana sa
one ghanaian boy, age twelve
the rock it crushed my hand
one thousand bitter kisses

4 comments:

Ami Mattison said...

Oh wow! A hard-hitting poem--its comparison between the price for a child and designer candy is certainly bitter. My heart especially hurts over the lines of the child's voice. Just an excellent poem and a powerful commentary!

Brian Miller said...

sobering...in your face and personal as well...we blow 30 bucks like water sometimes...does any of it really matter...i like this one...

hedgewitch said...

Impossible to leave a comment as worthwhile as the poem in this case. One that needed writing; well done.

Amy said...

"One ghanian boy, age twelve" is shocking and effective, most notably because it is so stoically listed with luxuries. Sweet, edible luxuries to be exact. Harrowing.