Hunting Camp at Yucca Valley

French writer lost in buffalo dreams, where grass grows tall and oceans never meet.
The words keep coming, the readers expecting, and soon we should all be satiated.
From the trail of tears, i translate thoughts to poetry, life to fiction and love to text.

This poem is an excerpt from the upcoming book of desert scratchings, etchings and sketches. It was published in Hobo Camp Review.

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Hunting Camp at Yucca Valley

A thrush sharpens its beak on an Atriplex,

and suddenly, it is morning;

I push the sand with naked toes,

I am alive with need, waters beckon.

The thrush is in full song,

the mountain in full rose.

Children stir.

Hunger makes its usual rounds.

First the men grunt, then they sway toward the rocks,

shivering quietly in their long-johns and woolen socks,

they put their boots on in haste; no time to waste at dawn.

The grain ground up and boiled,

I prepare the gruel for the children

who groggily slither out of their bed-sacks,

one by soft one,

vulnerable.

Coffee begins to sing on the makeshift grill.

I blow on my fingers in silent anticipation.

Gun propped up against the tent,

I watch for any movement, alert.

The men walk out of camp,

whispering position and angle of their prospective prey.

Now sun is ready to return to hell in its quotidian chore,

to suffocate life down here by noon.

A last coyote silently lopes away

not far from the fading embers of our last fire.

A game quail marches by, in full breast and cocky plume,

to lead me away from its young.

At that moment,

I decide to let the carbine rest on its wooden pedestal,

a harsh token of my weakness.

Eye full of grits and fat;

Hunger subsides to conscience.

Let men rip the air with their power in the mid-morning hush -

let them drag a heavy carcass home to the mining camp,

for me to butcher, for the children to grow.

One shot is all I hear:

Winter will be kinder

with a burro in the freezer this year.

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With sincere apology to the animal kingdom for the humble distribution of protein for healthful childhood development.

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you may meet me at: www.omphalosdada.org/nadinesellers

Bagging out..

bag ladies.

In every city i visit, i find stores and entire aisles dedicated to the art of the satchel. Leather goods, plastic arts, all materials are represented in as many styles as lifestyles. Somewhere about the bustle of alleys and parks, i invariably notice women carrying bags in various stages of decay. Some push carts which are loaded with bagged possessions. Container and content part and parcel of same.

The bag has become a symbol of affluence, the more luggage, the more riches. But the baggage becomes the burden of this age. We soon are strangled by the multitude of ever thinning resources, which must be contained for fear, they will eventually possess us. Zippered, tapered, locked and snapped, Guccied or Vuittonized, trends and fashions clutter the wallet and the market—not to mention, the very planet we tend to say we love...

Sure, no designer purse will exterminate the Florida alligator. No single briefcase will decimate the Brazilian cattle. But the flimsy little bag which steams up your veggies and isolates your tub of chicken livers from the nearest Super- Mart will definitely cause some poor fish to die prematurely from ingesting pelletised plastics in the Ocean.

It is not a case of importance, but one of quantity. The US uses bags at an alarming rate; 100 billion in one consumer country; that amounts to 1500 per person. 12 billion barrels of oil, are used to fabricate the flimsy things to carry more futile objects and processed items. These bags will live between 400 and 1000 years in a multitude of stages, strangle wild life, choke fish and ducks, and finally wash down rivers to break into microscopic plastic particles to end up as carcinogenics in the meat of your favorite food chain item.

Talk about end game and product, could man have designed a more perfect multi-generational food chain reaction? On purpose? The trouble with us is that few scientists bother to compute the complete life cycle of each invention. So now we are faced with the results of a marvelous convenience, the plastic bag. I don't have a medicine pouch to wave at the problem, but i do have numbers to demonstrate what many are doing about it.

Around the world in eighty bags, the satchel chronicles.

Australia: phased out bags end of 08 -- Bangladesh: ban and levy on plastic bags-- Britain: the Prime Minister pressured law makers to eliminate bags -- China: began to phase out June 21st 08 -- Ireland: charges 29 cents per bag -- Europe has had fees since the 80s -- Uganda has imposed a ban on bags -- US. California and New-York impose recycling in major stores. San Francisco first US city to ban bags by April's Earth day, and many stores try the barrel-by-the-door to entice recycling – eco-minded town councils wave arms to improve the city's aesthetics by pleading citizens to limit usage of disposables..good luck on training the masses!.

Progress - progress, too late and not enough, where to start? The EPA claims that it is up to local waste management to deal with it. Do we have the necessary self discipline? Can we overcome the rebellion over ecologic authority? I do see signs of a growing concern. The reasoning may be faulty; but if it will steer people into an act of conscience, hey? Aim for the sensitive areas ( pocket and charge card)

The local Hy-Vee store in our small town offers re-usable green bags for $1.00 free on certain holidays..It is not a social disgrace to carry your own bag. No jaw will drop, nor bag boy faint for the honorable act of self discipline. I have a multitude of bags, donated library book bags, second hand gadget bags with fancy logos from one major advertiser, take a photo of yourself holding the free advertisement and earn a free coupon from the company's . com website. Do you have a nylon catch all and stagnant travel bags? They' re light and easy to save and carry. There is no excuse to keep using plastic grocery bags.

Well, yes there is, how about the multitasking tips for the spares you already have accumulated? A classic, inside out scooper, or rain hat, a Stuff picker-upper, or stuff thrower, stuff storer. A wild edibles collector, refrigerator cleaner. Quite handy for isolating wet bathing suits in the SUV or for those ripe tennis shoes, or yet the hot and sweaty vacation clothing . Some folks even cut bags in strips and make trailer-park-art rugs, knit or crochet at will, i am told they last, uh? Forever. And to top this off, Halloween mini costume, you use your own imagination for that one; I don't practice anything involving too many sweets and screaming children in close proximity...

Paper or plastic? Pulp or oil? one is biodegradable, one is not--one is heavy--one is light. Neither offers a solution, so get out that gaudy beach bag with the long lived shells and blooms sewn on it, and go forth to dazzle the store clerks with your new-found conscience, or just break down and spring a buck for a sturdy little green bag.

From my alter ego, the bag lady, Madame Pochette, happy bagging, you' all!