Hungrily, I finger piles of bright tank tops, fluorescent lacy bras, polka dot socks
all sweat shop mass-produced, unsustainable, unfairly traded.
I don’t care.
I want to heap my cart, my life,
my intestines to the brim
with multi-colored softness.
Each synthetic fiber of these Dora the Explorer rainbow underwear
proof of somewhere’s destruction
Cargo ships heave
detritus of consumption
to and fro from China.
Rubber duckies, mismatched sneakers and L.E.D. key chains are lost in transit.
Wayward plastic forms new archipelagos.
Our hunger cannot be sated.
Raluca Ioanid was born in communist Romania and raised in capitalist New York City. By day she is a Family Nurse Practitioner in a busy community clinic in Fruitvale serving a diverse immigrant community. By night she is a trapeze-flying writer of stories. Her work has appeared in The Sun, So To Speak and in the anthologies: Your Golden Sun Still Shines and Civil Liberties United. She is a frequent contributor to the Bay Area Generations reading series and a co-founder of the Reverie Writer’s Group.