Stone Soup Servings Presents: Rachael Eisenberg


 

Stone Soup Servings is a regular series for Oddball Magazine that features upcoming performers at Stone Soup Poetry, the long-running spoken word venue in the Boston area that has partnered with Oddball Magazine. Stone Soup Poetry now meets from 7-9 p.m. every Monday at the Out of The Blue Art Gallery at 541 Massachusetts Avenue in Central Square Cambridge, Massachusetts. The open mike sign-up at 6:30 p.m.

Rachael Eisenberg will have her first poetry feature at Stone Soup this Monday. We look forward to it and offer you a sample of her work. Consider grabbing her latest collection.

 

Mad

“The truth is,” said the teacher,
“That hiding under you desk wouldn’t
Have done you any good.”
So, I asked why they’d make such
Propaganda
In the first place
This was America
Didn’t we promote truth ???
Didn’t we embrace free speech?
And who the hell is dumb enough
To take advice from a talking turtle
It’s not as if the films were made
For toddlers, after all
Could you imagine telling a toddler
About the threat that the Russians
Had posed, during the height
Of international conflict
I could see it in my mind
It was mad alright
We had the power to destroy the planet
Ten times over
And all it would take was
The push of a button
“Do you honestly think people are that rational?”
I asked the teacher
If a person was really capable
Of always baring in mind
Their own best interest
I was only fifteen
But even I knew that human beings
Get emotional
And making the best decisions
All the time
Wasn’t in their nature
“What’s to stop the president from getting cocky?”
I inquired.
“What if he believes we can blast the shit out of Russia, before their leader gets half way to the button?”
The teacher started to reiterate
What mutually assured meant
Then he paused
Looked around at the other twenty four
Students in the class
“Does any one know what year the Soviet Union broke up?”
He asked
“Does that mean there is no longer a threat?” I asked.
“No more reason for tension…”
He went on to explain that it was called
The COLD war
Because no ammunition had ever been fired
Between the two opponents
Between the two biggest world powers
And perhaps, what saved us was that
It actually took more than one person
To activate the launch sequence
Would that always be enough
I wondered
To provide an adequate system
Of checks
To keep us from going up
In a ball of flames
At night, when I went to bed
I’d think about the illustrated books
Discussing when an H Bomb HAD been dropped
The way they had described the pain
People must have gone through
The extreme blunt force they would have felt
Before ever molecule in their bodies
Turned to ash
And when I closed my eyes
I could see the planet
As a giant scorched bolder in space
Not a trace of there ever having been life on it
I was fifteen
And I tossed and turned in my sleep
Wondering why people would ever think
To create such a thing
To put our selves in such a
Precarious position
Why didn’t we just get rid of them all
What lead us from crudely forge steel blades
To THIS ???
Why did we feel the need to fight at all?
What was so satisfying about hurting others?
My father often made me grit my teeth
And he sometimes made me want to brake things
With his cruelty and abrasiveness
But I was reacting to him
What made a person want to initiate conflict
I mean real physical conflict
That was the seed of my discontent
And my misanthrope just grew from there

 

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