The Consumer and the Consumed

In a windowless room,

our shirts pushed up

over the elbows,

in order to touch the bottom

without getting wet.


Feeling in the muck,

through the foreign food bodies,

for the soft stick of forks

and the smooth underbelly of spoons.


The mist from the sprayer slicks

every surface to a dangerous sheen.

The sound of food being scraped from

plates–like our unsaid thoughts,

half-formed in the false light,

then discarded.


The yawning of the dishwasher,

like a mouth opening and swallowing–

cycles of dirty then clean.


The door separates us from the eaters,

the consumers from the consumed,

the solar from the fluorescent.


But still at the end of each work-day,

when we walk out of the artificial glow

into the glare of the noonday sun,

it comes sharp and unexpected,

like finding a knife in dishwater.

About Heidi Stauff throughsinaisand

Ultimately ending up in Atlanta, Heidi's creative impulses followed many paths. She delivered middle-class, white-girl, angst to tens and twenties of Generation-Xers through the now defunct rock-band, Belljar. She designed hundreds of dresses for Disney-bound little girls. She birthed two babies she now homeschools, lost and then found her faith again, and writes about all of it in her free time: which is usually after midnight with a glass or three of wine.
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2 Responses to The Consumer and the Consumed

  1. Nice metaphors, yes, love the final line ūüėČ xo


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