Ponder the old pestles and mortars
used at times in apothecaries,
older drug emporium quarters.
Some of the porous surface was shared
by grinding both mortar and pestle
ending up in medicines prepared.
Do today's microplastics alarm you?
Minute particles endanger us all;
microwavable repercussions? Whew!
Categories:
microwavable, 11th grade, pollution,
Form: Tristich
Her world is a paranoid marketplace.
Fear is the zeitgeist and panic her shame.
She’d married her psyche to a dog whistle pimp
Who’d promised her he’d drain the swamp.
And sure enough, he did.
Drained it right into her swimming pool.
Idea thieves, poetry forgers, and high-water prophets
Trouble her intangibles to no end of sadness
With pressed-flower language, and wallpaper promises.
They give her Teflon skillets, microwavable plastic,
Flushable wipes, and jade v*gin* eggs
With which to contemplate the world to come,
While she’s sipping absinthe with Pablo, of course.
Now the dinky engine is on the narrow gauge
Approaching a junction packed with
Fingernail dirt and tactical nukes.
The flood of refugees is on the rise,
Taking the road to more primitive times.
Someone drank all the sanctified church wine.
Now she waits for the suicide drones.
Rosewater tonics won’t offer relief
When the bill for the wedding comes due,
Her field of dreams beneath a mushroom cloud.
Categories:
microwavable, allegory, america, angst, anxiety,
Form: Free verse
There's this break room—
Where I work, of course—
That holds three microwaves,
one refrigerator, a stove,
and two vending machines.
All cannot be younger than
Five years at the earliest.
This break room is tiled
But rather dirty despite
Monthly scrubbing and mopping.
I and my coworkers—
Most Guatemalans and
Salvadorans, but there is a
Single Mexican—eat here,
Our bags of chips, fruits,
microwavable nonperishables—;
A couple of ladies
Cook tortillas upon the stovetop.
The chairs are either plastic
Or metal, but, bizarrely,
There's a comfy-looking
Cushioned seat and even
A varnished, wooden swivel.
The makeup is makeshift,
This break room. And,
Along one of the sills of
The big windows at the far
End, are empty glass salt
And pepper shakers. The
Salt shaker's glass design
Features vertical lines,
The ridges comfortable in
Your hand. The pepper shaker
Carries horizontal lines.
They've been there since I
First began work, never
Holding any spices themselves.
Categories:
microwavable, culture, environment,
Form: Lyric
Grandma,
You are the wise one of the family. You are the
giver and doer, and true believer. You shape us,
as we grow. You are there for the good and bad, and
all the in betweens. You play parts, that you already
played with your children, before us. If it wasn't for
you, the world would not be as sweet. If it wasn't for
you, we wouldn't know what family values mean. After
all, you did instill that within your children, who
in turn, instilled it into us. All the meals would be
microwavable or served cold, because there would have
been no recipes to pass along to the next generation.
Besides, you know Grandmas cooking, is always the
best. You are the prayer when things need a little help.
All in all Grandma, the world would be a cold, unfeeling
place without you. So thank you for all the things you
do, which are too numerous to list. I love you Grandma.
Your Grandaughter
Categories:
microwavable, beautiful, giving, granddaughter, grandparents,
Form: Free verse