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The Parable of the Flax Seed 

The Parable of the Flax Seed 

Slick, black flax seed
In your teeth — get your toothpick
pick it free
And stick it in a small, wet hole —
In deep black loam to bloom
and grow
In purple flowered fields of flax
And strip and weave these into slacks —
For linen’s coolest these long days
of amber waves of heat
To wear along the melting street and
Heatwaves come from heat bombs: cars
And jets, and tanks,
and abattoirs,
And millionaires
With all their wars
Against the trees, and seas, and birds,
Against the worms,
Against the poor
And that which they haven’t exploited
And wrecked yet
And don’t forget that all our debt
Is also a source of great power:
If none repaid the usurers
They’d all disappear
In under a year

 

Elliot Sperber is a writer, attorney, and adjunct professor. He lives in New York City and can be reached at elliot.sperber@gmail.com and on twitter @elliot_sperber

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