Red & white checkers nearly flew
from the blanket as she snapped it
before spreading her wings
to ensure its soft, flat landing.
Cousin Randy stole the picnic
with storm clouds of government,
explaining Chomsky’s interpretation
of Dewey’s lament: we address the shadow
instead of the substance. Blame the government, no,
blame big business, he said as German potatoes
piled on his plate in deliberate whacks
of a plastic scoop. Aunt Susan cracked a glance
from her usual grin to say, Randy, your cousin
doesn’t want to hear about it. No one wants to
hear it, he said. You see that melon? Yes.
The heart’s been carved from it, yet it still beats.
What beats, he said, flicking an ant from the
red & white checkered cloth, sent it sailing
over fields of chips, salads, & meat – that is, what is
left at the core of an orbiting world?
What empty spaces have we presumed?