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poetry Noon in a three star restaurant

“He does not represent us,” writes poet Marge Piercy about the misogynist Senator, but knows the “clichés that light up brains.”

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Noon in a three star restaurant

By Marge Piercy

He eats a good lunch, the senator

who hates women, especially

those who don’t smile enough

don’t polish his ego or prick.

Pain is good for their souls.

He has a classic dry martini,

the senator who votes to strip

food stamps from children,

health care from old ladies,

clean water from everyone.

He enjoys a hearts of palm salad

while a stream runs through his brain

white, pure as new ice. He knows

who his real friends are, donors.

People with darker skin: can’t

you see how dirty they are? A kobi

steak, death by chocolate. Money

from oil, big pharma, insurance,

utilities, the extremely rich. We’re

superfluous. Nothing to offer

except our lives, our health,

taxes, bodies for endless wars.

He does not represent us

although he spouts the right

clichés that light up brains.

  Copyright 2019 Marge Piercy

Marge Piercy has published 19 poetry collections, most recently Made in Detroit (Knopf); 17 novels including Sex Wars. PM Press reissued Vida, Dance the Eagle to Sleep; they brought out short stories Cost of Lunch, Etc and My Body, My Life (essays, poems). She has read at over 500 venues here and abroad.