No Baby Milk Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

No Baby Milk



No milk for babies

I have lost track of who is fighting whom in the overlapping endless wars
in the middle- east, but that is beside the point today.
I was standing in supermarket`s till a woman in front of me had bought
a litre of milk and now she looking for loose change.
I was amazed she looked like human dairy; she could bottle her milk
in small flasks and sell it to health freaks.
In the vastness of her bag movements, it was her husband Carlos smelling
Like the inside of a purse
I always like to take him along when shopping and know where he is and,
He has got the car keys.

The Americans have been bombing again making sure there is no milk for babies
because they want to build that pipe gas line across Afghanistan and the Taliban
or is it the Pashtuns are saying no, from my home I see for me a giant in uniform
with a belt full of bombs bestriding the world.

Tuesday, April 25, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: story
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Rod Mendieta 25 April 2017

I've been thinking exactly along the same lines as this poem, and wondering why there aren't more poets feeling inclined to say something about things like these in their works. Thank you for redressing the issue.

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