Carly Sachs is the recipient of the 2011Stella Kupferberg Memorial Short Story Prize.
Her first book of poems, the steam sequence won the 2006 Washington Writers’ Publishing House book prize. She is the editor of the why and later, an anthology of poems that women have written about rape and sexual assault (deep cleveland press 2007). Her poems have appeared in The Best American Poetry 2004, Another Chicago Magazine, Nextbook, MiPoesis, PMS, The New Vilna Review, The Saint Ann’s Review, and Present Tense. She received her MFA from The New School and has taught courses at George Washington University. Currently she is an intern in The Kripalu School of Yoga.
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Immortal Blueberries
Ramona wonders what happens to the peaches
nobody picks, the plums that don’t make it
to someone’s icebox.
She looks around the produce section at Whole Foods,
light refracting off the waxy greens and reds,
apple and pear dreams slipping out of her mind—
of what she will make, of what she won’t.
The produce section reminds her of a pound,
the soft mewing of portobellos,
the potatoes looking at her gravely.
While the bourgeoisie grab for bolivian grown broccoli
the produce man leans over her shoulder and whispers
gather ye rosebuds while ye may.
She looks at her cart, but thinks of a boat.
She sails through the aisles collecting two of everything
even though they reproduce asexually.
Ramona can’t sleep anymore.
She’s made all the soup, pie, and jam
anyone can stand and her friends won’t
take them anymore.
She’s been saving everything from tangerine to green bean
for three months now but it all seems in vain.
Every Saturday she goes back to Whole Foods
and everything is the same.
She begins her routine but by the time she gets to the blackberries
the weight of her buggy feels like a burden.
That night sleepless, steeped in seeds,
she hears a voice from the living room.
Keep your produce fresh year round.
Ramona thinks that maybe all the jam
is affecting her hearing, but it continues
want to always have fruit that doesn’t spoil…
She rinses the sticky from her arms
Yes you too the lady addresses her
can enjoy seasonal fruits every season.
Ramona watches in horror as the woman in the tv
slices apples and apricots.
She is having difficulty with the concept of a fruit and vegetable dehydrator.
She tries to think of things logically.
She hates canned vegetables, but she hates them spoiling
worse. Rhythmically fresh is best and dry rhymes with die.
However, when she thinks a little harder she comes up with:
Dehydrate rhymes with make a saint!
She pictures little bags of dried blueberries looking at her benevolently
from her cupboard.
She pictures pious pancakes with blueberry eyes
and a cherry smile, the face of G-d grinning up at her
from the frying pan.