there's an unusual scene
in the grapes of wrath
where an emaciated woman
breastfeeds a grown man.
when i first read this seminal book
in high school
this particular scene made no impact,
was no more singular
than any other page
heavy with wandering woe and simmering revolt.
a desperate woman
breastfeeds a grown man
at the expense of her own baby,
a woman lacking sufficient nutrition herself-
perhaps the character of his desperation
was more striking than that
of self and family?
neonatal nutrition
for a victim of prenatal society
stuck in the womb of wrong direction
through no fault
of grown-up breastfed men
who drifted epically through dust-bowled horizons
searching for a better mama.
