When some people talk about money
They speak as if it were a mysterious lover
Who went out to buy milk and never
Came back, and it makes me nostalgic
For the years I lived on coffee and bread,
Hungry all the time, walking to work on payday
Like a woman journeying for water
From a village without a well, then living
One or two nights like everyone else
On roast chicken and red wine.
~Tracy K. Smith
What an extraordinary poem, Laurie. Bittersweet, sad, and, yes, "nostalgic"!
ReplyDeleteLiving on metaphoric bread/water until I get more employment.
DeleteOh, I do like the poetry of T.K. Smith. How many times have we all lived this poem. It's the worst that we masquerade as "everyone else" when we're usually more "everyone else" when we're living from hand to mouth, counting the days 'til the end of the month, and doing mad mental calculation in the grocery store line, wondering if we can afford everything we've gotten, and if any of it is a splurge we ought to set aside before someone does it for us...
ReplyDeleteThat's one of the worst feelings in the world. That, & trying to buy enough petrol with change you've rummaged up.
DeleteLe sigh.