Posts tagged ‘American Food’

April 24, 2015

Minnesota turkey deaths

Similar to farm raised turkey
and Monsanto corn,

our immune systems have been compromised
by the monocultures we create;

our tendency for convenience and familiarity
has placed us at the precarious edge of catastrophe,

absolutely starved-fat and defensively naked.

Though,
it does save us money at the grocery,
and help those in control of the industry.

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November 6, 2014

American Hunt (What’s for Lunch)

A Bow to bend
Is one taken in Hand,
An arrow extends
With no wound to mend.

At Speed it flew,
Put sharp head through.
What blood to spew,
What red bled through.

A mess of Hide
Plays with the mind.
Now run and hide,
To be found and die.

Follow the American Animal hunt;
Providing sustenance, it’s what’s for lunch.

September 14, 2014

Money Does Not Matter (Lavish Habit)

A weekend’s worth of cigarette smoke.

In lungs as it was,

Now

An empty yellow pack
on a cluttered coffee table;
an Indigenous effigy affixed on the front,
laying creased and crushed.

Then:

Dirty caked pealing fingers
Hangnail cuts a cloth uneven
Expensive wines stained flesh
Blood let late this summer that went

I spent two weeks in one night…

On:

Raw Oysters,
sitting next
to
translucent green Seaweed
whole and Uncooked Quail Eggs
there they lay
bei
pinked cuts
of Expensive Fish.

Let’s not forget the numerous rounds of cloudy white sake.

Champagne flow pained frontal lobe.
Nights let grow, as days let wane.
Through campus- through school,
on legs that bend- shooting pain.

Feeling as crumpled paper; trashed.
Sprawled across the lawn in the grass,
People playing games as I move past,
A backpack fully packed, on back.

When: all of sudden preparation for another week began.

And I have to leave it at that.
Money does not matter.

August 14, 2013

Dark Day Roast Coffee

There is a light hue of evening slipping on a warm window frame.

Always know the date.

 

Sometimes I forget my name.

Maybe it’s all on the surface of what’s in my cup.

 

***

More coffee than is necessarily helpful.

And there are words by the mouthful.

 

Watching the cool day beauty,

Wind blows right through me.

 

Advantageously lacking,

Practiced at grabbing,

And then gone.

 

Sing song.

 

Tune in out of cue.

POV.

 

Out to sea, only to see you.

August 11, 2013

End of Work Observation

End of Work Observation,

By Terry Scott Niebeling

 

“When I’m not looking for anything I find everything.”

OTS_

 

***

 

Watched bugs fly; they flashed sparks white under the hot parking-lot lights.

Sitting in the A/C cooled yellowing dim-light dining space.

 

Sippin’ a beer with pork and nettles.

 

Ace in the hole,

No story to tell.

 

No drama foreseen about to unfold.

All is well.

 

Stacked silver on plates to be taken away.

 

Just watching distant wings hit, flutter, flap and sputter, fleeting dust as dark colors crept in.

 

 

 

 

Everyone’s like this and that…  I’m like, man, what the hell?