| We stand in lines to turn our neighbors in. |
| You there, writing poems in the dark. |
| Do you think you're better? Do any of your verses |
| put cabbage in the pot? |
| Wisdom worth having is cabbage wisdom. |
| |
| What good are poems sewn into cushions |
| when they come for you in the night |
| and you can't tell one dream from another? |
| |
| Better to weave them, a warm coat for winter. |
| That would be a wisdom worth having. |
| Better to stitch them, a passport from this place. |
| This time. This life. |
| Or a cow to get you by. |
| |
| Even the stars are sentries, the moon |
| a respected informer. |
| |
| —Barbara Alexandra Szerlip
|
