Torsade Literary Space it hates (poem)
it hates
it curls into a fetal crouch
reminds itself of cruel conspirators
doesn’t remind
from the couch, it watches
a song once loved now sells young customers
sailcloth uppers
organic scuffs, the rubber
sustainably harvested, no less…
Harvested! Makes it think of the old tractor brand…
All snuffled up by corporate raiders, think onwards of
Caterpillar…Caterpillar selling women’s shoes!
Dire convergences in a world that insists
On coming to
it would like to read something by O’Reilly
but the Star Trek redshirt comes to mind
history has its lessons
think of uncool stereotypes
why would the “no man” not be no xm?
(by year two-thousand what the heck…)
Isn’t this where those people are headed?
The ones who call it uneducated
it absorbs information in a continual spew
its regurgitated jumble, the Weltschema of Fox News
saved coins and Grandma’s gold and land itself
attic finds, war bonds, and handstitched quilts
and three downstairs guns…one in the flour canister
one under the sofa, one atop the TV cabinet
to an actual intruder, three handy gifts
it hates
Self-Control
calmly (poem)
(2020, Stephanie Foster)