B C A B

oxbow enjoyer

SOY

From television snow
falls winter.
From nightglow screen
flows the river.

What’s the point of waiting
for the sea to level
out? Acid rains
piss silver on the heads
of hormone cattle.

Brains, bent to buy
the deep flower
of desire driving
markets insane,
weigh about
a tofu brick
apiece.

Count the bricks,
what pyramid emerges
wet and ready
to press? Like all
good myths, we wrap
too tight the ends
of real disaster.

We need a way
of saying what it is,
not to judge or dismantle
but brick by brick
assemble the picture
of what we make
and eat, the soy
and soil entwined
like the bones of captives
and their chains.
	•
From television snow
falls winter.
From nightglow screen
flows the river.

Journey from fields
and over dry land.
Heatsinks burn the
forests into housing.
Plots for soy
communion, which is
wafers with no gluten.

Crop of bone
antennae blinks
send famine, the
open road to
joyful windmill
agro-social
soy. On paper
birds survive but 
today my birds
are mostly made
of paper and painted
on windmill wings.

How many children
grow in supermarket
forests packing
shelves of soil
storing later soy.
Seeds explode
from packets into
roots to siphon
water from the cracks
and corners of containers.

Soy, like cockroaches,
will survive, and learn.

Silos launching
missiles filled with
soy are fundamental
requisites for
future reproduction
reaching phases
to a moon we know
as sterile, inhospitable
to soy. (Groan.)
	•
From television snow
falls winter.
From nightglow screen
flows the river,
and slowly there bends
a plastic ox
bowed to feed soy,
drying in the sun.

Soy farmer then
lifts a fork and
pitches bricks to
the end of the bow
and they sink.
A lake filled
with soy. Linked
to roads on a river
of soy. Have you
seen fields like
reaper-fodder
mowed?

Journey from fields
and over dry land.
Rainland sapped
of its wisdom. Soy
feeding what it steals.
These secret channels
speak for the circuit
of locked and linking
roads, fields, blocks of
bio network fed
on refuse, surplus,
gaps in management.

Banks of data
curb the runoff
from an early thaw,
into the bow and
over rotting soy.