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Running out of Options
by Kristina Woodhill
I did not hear her
curse the men,
spit her venom broadside,
blistering unsuspecting, stunned
and gaping mouths
I hope ….,
she screamed at neighbors
I can only wonder
how this story might
have internally shaped itself
for I have read her books
and licked up every gravy
drop she served
I hope
all of your grandchildren...
days later
one man remarked he was still
a little tender from her pointed spell,
fierce, a witched concoction
each spring we neighbors
burn the shared irrigation ditch,
one following behind to spray
tenacious clogging grass
a round up of last summer's growth
and spring's new blades,
a round up of winter's dried wilt
oh, Round-Up,
you are, indeed, the easy spritz,
unwanted plants' final solution,
Pandora's boxed gift of chemistry
I hope
all of your grandchildren
get brain tumors...
and here Hansel and Gretel
recall how to flee the woods,
Red Riding Hood shivs the wolf,
and grown men are quelled
before a tiny woman
waving one and a half arms
an old crone projecting a fearful voice,
a fear-filled voice,
a voice unanswered
by rumors and articles,
facts and distractions,
EPA this and Monsanto that
I sense the crowded corner
where she feels pinned.
See the huge muffed ears,
she remarks,
pointing at shadows
bent on obscuring her once sensible queries
See what I have become, she whispers
to no one listening
I am the frantic scream
I hope
all of your grandchildren
get brain tumors
and die
05/03/2018 Author's Note: Neighbor's reaction to other neighbors spraying the back ditch. Scary stuff, as she is scared of Round-up, apparently at her wit's end.
Posted on 05/03/2018
Copyright © 2024 Kristina Woodhill
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 05/04/18 at 01:14 PM Fascinating story, and strong reminder that poetry can grow like a weed (pardon the pun) out of just about anything. |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 05/04/18 at 03:53 PM Kristina, your work is just so involved and utterly appealing to the moral senses. Should we? Should we not? Can we shoulder the responsibility of doing? To spray or not to spray? that is the eternal cunundrum and then some. I'm glad there is a poet on this site that addresses these real honest to goodness issues and it is you, Kristina. |
| Posted by John Herzog on 05/11/18 at 08:55 PM Incredible. You demonstrate the ability to paint the most vivid scenes, so eloquently and brilliantly worded, out of the most happenstance of scenarios. Thank you for sharing your canvas! :) |
| Posted by Brian Francis on 05/15/18 at 04:03 PM You capture the irate neighbor wonderfully with the glimpse you given us. Your words carry the imagery and emotion and cast it at the readers with subtle nuance. Well done. --bf |
| Posted by Glenn Currier on 07/24/18 at 12:39 PM Kristina, You describe well the angst and sense of helplessness of your neighbor. I felt sorry for her even in her venom-spraying. The build up to the final stanza was a clever way to keep your readers going until that final sad revelation. Your poetic prowess is always a living gift to experience. Thank you. |
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