I prep produce, vegetables and fruit,
for salads and soup, atop old newsprint
The NY Times, the Daily News,
rarely The Wall Street Journal,
and maybe the Post, from any city

I marvel
at the events I've missed
while shucking and peeling 

Oh my God, Desmond Tutu died
the day after Christmas '21, there  among
shredded carrot it says he said if you want Peace, 
don't talk to your friends, instead talk to your enemies

In January, foreign Chinese investors had reason to be on edge,
something-something else I can't read for the smearing 
of eggplant slime upon the ink

And people dead in airplanes, and poor folks swindled,
a shooting here, a mugging there, prices up,
money down

Every page, every year,
every onion peel, orange rind, and apple seed,

cc: CC '22