An activist conscious dialogue, Marcia Slatkin’s Cheese After Fukushima laments an impending future occupied by melted ice caps, fishless oceans, persistence of global obesity, the absence of CO2, and a wheezing Earth suffocated under city sidewalks. These wildly inventive poems are backed with a beautiful linguistic language which brings an element of beauty to the otherwise stark descriptions of our own reality.
Cheese after Fukushima
If I were young, my ovaries prodding possibility, squirming newness still in my future, I might stop. Rain brings rads to grass, unknowing ruminants munch, and the rest is amplification. “Then buy skim, packed before the Japanese release – enough for a lifetime -- and mix your ration daily,” says the health ‘umai.’ But I’d so mourn lessened pleasure: that thick milk-magic that lets enzymes ferment and grow wildly-unctuous tastes undreamed...