Turnip
April 3, 2014Scarred where the shovel struck, severing your tie to the earth, the umbilical taproot through which you feasted, you still smell of the soil and haphazard stews concocted in grimy…
Scarred where the shovel struck, severing
your tie to the earth, the umbilical taproot
through which you feasted, you still smell
of the soil and haphazard stews concocted
in grimy railroad yards where hobos huddle
around a steaming caldron, anticipating
their lone, liquid meal. You are
the prince of the dispossessed, sporting
your purple vestment like a spreading
bruise, the political prisoner sprung from
some dank dungeon to instill revolt
in sagging stomachs that long for richer
fare. Member of the mustard family, relative
of the cabbage and cauliflower, sire
to the bastard rutabaga, you persevere
through drought and cold while lesser
crops wither or blanch, their lifeblood
clogged with ice. You nourish Brueghel’s
peasant farmers and Manet’s stoop-backed
reapers who trudge home to partake
of your boiled, white flesh and rally
around your cropped, green flag.
-Chuck Wagner (Hamilton County)
Chuck Wagner lives in Westfield and teaches creative writing and literature at Brebeuf Jesuit Preparatory School in Indianapolis. His poems have appeared in Cottonwood, Kansas Quarterly, Little Balkins Review, Hopewell Review, and the anthology, And Know This Place: Poetry of Indiana (Indiana Historical Society Press, 2011).
Indiana Humanities is celebrating National Poetry Month by sharing a poem from an Indiana poet every day in April (hand-selected by Indiana Poet Laureate George Kalamaras). Check in daily to see who is featured next!