Friday, January 09, 2015

[Poem] Commodity

Yesterday, mother
Became a hunter.

There were no words
For what she was

Looking for.

Even her children were
Just strangers here,

Eating away their
Foreignness by forgetting

Memories meant to be alien and true

Amid aisles of stores
Who don't buy the change her family can bring.

She holds a pomegranate
                     and cries,
                                        so close.

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