As the workers go home
and the lights go off
I can’t help but wonder
why we weren’t bought today.
Am I not enough to bring home?
To have a place at the table?
Because on the farm,
we dreamt about it every night.
We would one day be apart of someone’s spread.
Maybe roasted or mashed we
would grace a table.
I’ve always wanted to be apart of soup.
Spud said I was crazy.
Who dreams of being soup?
But I do.
I could give everyone a little soup belly
then we’d take a nap together;
the closest thing to cuddling I could have.
But here I am,
sitting in a bag, wondering why I wasn’t enough
Do I have too many spots?
Was I not the right size for their recipe?
And tomorrow I will do it again
and hold onto the hope that I will be
in a soup.
Because all I want is to cuddle
and that’s the closest I will get.
Alena Chen is a junior at UAlbany studying English and Economics. She usually writes poetry in her spare time but this is the first time she has been published. She hopes to continue her studies of English literature in graduate school. Her favorite authors include F. Scott Fitzgerald, Pablo Neruda, and Jane Austen