Raclette

I fall apart now.

I drip
onto a plate
underneath me.

I can’t help it.
The fire is warm.
I am so sleepy,

and I lack arms
to get myself
back together.

We are inside,
the things
that used to be

outside.

I think I used to be
a cow, or inside a cow,
or some part of a cow.

I don’t know, but there
was grass somewhere
and I seem to remember

its taste. Maybe
sunlight also.
But now

there is this fire.
It unlocks the sun
I have held.

The sheets of something
next to me used to be
cow, too, but different.

They try to talk to me,
but I can only catch
a word or two,

because we are so
different, and so much
has happened since

the time when we were
cows. The potatoes
and gherkins, I don’t

even bother with.
They just say
their own names

over and over again,
and it seems to me that
we should forget

our names, now that
(as I believe) we will soon
become people.

 

For NaBloPoMo and PAD Challenge, Day 19 (prompt: write a wheel poem).

About these ads
Standard

2 thoughts on “Raclette

  1. What an amazing persona poem! (How on earth did you think to write in the voice of a *cheese*?!?) I love the transformations the poem traces–and how in the end all these cows and plants are to “become people.” And my favorite image: how the fire “unlocks the sun / I have held.”

    If I may say so, you are on an astounding writing streak.

    • Thank you so much, Jennifer! In the travel section of our paper, there was an “apres ski” scene of a wheel of raclette melting by a fire. It was the first thing I thought of when I saw the prompt to write about a wheel. I liked thinking about how food might feel about being eaten, and what conception it has of its past and future. Sometime after I wrote it, I thought of adding a stinger ending about how the cheese will clog someone’s heart, but the cheese is so philosophical about everything, and I thought this would change the tone too much.

      Thanks again! One great thing about a month of daily prompts is that it gets you thinking in ways you wouldn’t otherwise — this particular poem is not one that I had any idea about before the prompt.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s