Sunday, May 15, 2011

We change.

There comes a day
In the life of every slaughterhouse employee
Where she must decide whether hurting living things
Is something that she is still capable of.

She calls in sick a few times that month.
A migraine.
A sunburn.

Eventually, she picks up the want-ads.

Years later, she will laugh over a meal with friends -- make light of it.
It's what she's known for.
But later, in the quiet of her attic apartment,
She will say out loud:

How very far I've come.

And all the while, the earth is spinning beneath her feet.

Location:Governor John Davis Lodge Turnpike,Westport,United States


Jaime said...

Hi Jackie! This is Jaime from Oceanside. I found you through your LJ. I've been trying to find you on facebook forever but can't remember your last name!!

Jackie pst! said...

Hi!!! it's Mancini, friend me immediately I can't wait to talk to you! I have looked for you too! Crazy!

Jaime said...

i hope I sent the request to the right Jackie. haha. heres me:

Hello said...

Hi Jackie

I was stuffing around googling things on my computer and I wrote "silly things" into the Google search line. And I came up with your blog. Your poetry is beautiful and I will be coming back for more.

Thanks you - I love the way you make the small things as intricate as hand woven lace.


Jackie pst! said...

Well, that's a lovely thing to say.