Spaghettios with Fresh OreganoIt is February 14th the flicker is drumming the stucco my cocoa is thick and I study the secret green in my beloved’s brown eyes, in my dream I burrow my lips into the mountain soil now I wipe cacao from the crevasses and bear myself to the day with hope between molars wedged as apple skin before it breaks loose black silk wanders the city like volcanic ash and The People eat pasta primavera, sip sour wine, trace fingers and float above the homeless guy on St. Francis or the one “livin’ on a prayer,” reminds me of dad at the shelter and what lyric he’d bold sharpie on cardboard maybe, “there must be some kinda way outta here,” or something from Taxman. His fingers are still swollen working construction on meth, I’d bring him jelly donuts he ate 2 days later every gratification delayed when you’re on the bottom rung and I swear the second one up is 100 ft tall but everyone believes you’re Alice surrounded by eat me cookies and lazy, no less. Mom makes scalloped potatoes from the middle rung though I rarely see her I smell her trauma layered somewhere between onion, russet and cheese the luxury of carpet and heat, a fat dachshund my friend sees and calls me rich, I steal refried beans from mom’s pantry to bring dad she hates it though they’re expired I bike bags of beans across town and watch the cement deteriorate watch the brow stiffen touch the sweat of my father’s withdraw when it floods my palm and tells me of a poor man’s panic, the spore of addiction manifest as mold everyone throws bleach around and leaves the window closed; one room crowded in desperation, food stamps, donut boxes and scratch its, hope and everything unmet one room with the slow rise of carbon monoxide, unseen poison of walking around a sidewalk sleeping bag and finding it inconvenient. Molly Burack is a student, musician and poet who currently resides in the mountains of New Mexico on the unceded land of the Tano people. She graduated with a degree in English from University of Oregon, and is now pursuing a masters in mental health counseling with a focus in ecotherapy from Southwestern. Raised in a family struggling with homelessness and addiction, her work focuses on healing intergenerational trauma through art and reconnection with the natural world. She has been featured in the literary journals “Unbound,” “Buck Off Magazine,” "From Whispers to Roars"; and the “Santa Fe Reporter.” You can find more of her work at mollyburack.com
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AboutThe poems that follow are powerful evidence that Poetry Speaks Back to Hunger! Archives
October 2022
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