Work Song
Hauled into a back seat
cauldron weighted down
propulsion,
fate is winded now
& I, mapped & laundered,
go.
Sure I was happy. Ten
minutes out of work
& needing to pee. Such
are the measures
of many an odd thing
that now, out of bed,
derisive laughter
please me
laying low in the morning
ah – laying low in the morning
— from Time Rations
Benjamin Friedlander
Praise for Time Rations
Benjamin Friedlander remembers what wounds of World War he was born after. Days can’t cover words at the fact gate. Lines to the end of myth begin at the middle. This is intelligent, passionate writing. The poems in Time Rations are fragments, splinters, and pilgrim staves.
— Susan Howe