DanceswithwordsMilk
September 25th 2008 05:35
‘Milk’
Four fenced paddocks
Four stomachs on four legs
Dairy mothers diligently feeding our city orphans
Sun setting and rising to the sucking sound of suction cup
Big beautiful bosomed cowgirls over and over
Bending and bursting in tin bucket squirting cream
That sexy rhythm herringboned by sterile machine
Leaving the smell of cow shit and diesel
To be swallowed by a city drinking it
Pasteurised powdered packets to plastic bottles
Skim and skinny for fat people
The farmer’s nowhere to be seen
I’m fighting with stupid packaging
And that seal that rips off in your hand
Folding back the flaps on cartons
I wonder where the bottles and the milkman went
And all the children he fathered when Dad was away
I pour the smallest of drops
Just a dash
For my tea
Dances
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Comment by TimmyH
Tech News
Can you HACK it?
Genyration
Comment by Lily
Ars Poetica
grrr to those seals and flaps..
the old way of glass bottles, leaving them out for the milkman? well your poem makes me miss that, and fighting with the bros for the cream on the top. we even went for a 4am clip clop round the neighbourhood on the milkman's horse and cart when i was a girl.. still remember it clearly..
me? raised on goats milk..
~lily
ps. i wore a dairy maids costume while writing this post!
Comment by Danceswithwords
Poetic Sedition
Inspiration
Smiled at your comments ;o)
Yeah those were the days hey?
Dances