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Bread

Bread M IHAELA M OSCALIUC First day, a gaunt man summons me gen tly, palm tapping the seat next to him. Before words butter the a ir, he’s helped himself to my loaf. I ride depot to depo t, on tales of the pianist wife dead twenty y ears, cloven-hooved politicia ns, spiders that abandon irradiated eggs. I relearn frantically, though ankles sw ell as I high-heel uneven cobblestones. One morning, I almost tr ip over the man splayed in the gutter soiled, unconscious. While I wait, out of h abit, for the ambulance, a woman picks off a nts crisscrossing his face, deposits t hem one by one in the cracks of tarmac. e b Th read kiosks make generosity ea sy —one hand pays, the other gives a way. One beggar pushes the hot loaf back, grum bles Let bread be all you know till maggots get you. A month into, as I spray-paint yellow stripes on city dumpsters most likely to h old unspoiled food, a woman with silver e yes barters her scavenger stick for my skin. Body, I returned you to the land of our m aking without translator, but don’t be afraid t o bruise. Back in the comforts of America bread will again be nothing but bread. http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Manoa University of Hawai'I Press

Bread

Moscaliuc, Mihaela
Manoa , Volume 31 (2) – Dec 18, 2019
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Publisher
University of Hawai'I Press
Copyright
Copyright © 2008 University of Hawai'i Press.
ISSN
1527-943x

Abstract

M IHAELA M OSCALIUC First day, a gaunt man summons me gen tly, palm tapping the seat next to him. Before words butter the a ir, he’s helped himself to my loaf. I ride depot to depo t, on tales of the pianist wife dead twenty y ears, cloven-hooved politicia ns, spiders that abandon irradiated eggs. I relearn frantically, though ankles sw ell as I high-heel uneven cobblestones. One morning, I almost tr ip over the man splayed in the gutter soiled, unconscious. While I wait, out of h abit, for the ambulance, a woman picks off a nts crisscrossing his face, deposits t hem one by one in the cracks of tarmac. e b Th read kiosks make generosity ea sy —one hand pays, the other gives a way. One beggar pushes the hot loaf back, grum bles Let bread be all you know till maggots get you. A month into, as I spray-paint yellow stripes on city dumpsters most likely to h old unspoiled food, a woman with silver e yes barters her scavenger stick for my skin. Body, I returned you to the land of our m aking without translator, but don’t be afraid t o bruise. Back in the comforts of America bread will again be nothing but bread.

Journal

Manoa – University of Hawai'I Press

Published: Dec 18, 2019

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