A Cauliflower Farmer

He still stands in the back row with the traditional misery. His plants always get his carbon dioxide. But his hope trapped in the collapsed price suffocates. Farm Aid Package orbits over his life like a malfunctioning satellite. His debt thrives among the dream debris. The farmers’ dry voice flames in the street. He too throws his produce. His cauliflowers scatter on the road like the baton-charged protest. Creative Writing Ink Competition (Ireland) winning poem. First published in The Literary Hatchet (Pear Tree Press, US).