Photo Title: Paper Bags © Adam Marcinek PhotographyVisit his website to see additional photos. And, his blog HERE.
The photographer lives in Boston, Massachusetts, and specializes in
black and white photography and printing.
Photo used with permission from Adam Marcinek.
9 comments:
Recession
Two brown bags on the
kitchen table
Ready to be taken
to work
"You just need one
'Cause my job is gone,"
Said the boy who
once worked as
a clerk
One brown bag on the
kitchen table
Ready to be taken
to work
"You don't need none
'Cause my job is gone"
Said the man who
soon went quite
bezerk
Aha, Michael...unemployment taking it toll.
LUNCH BAG BLUES
It's off to school we go,
To start another day.
Mom's got our stuff all ready,
To send us on our way.
The paper bags are lunches,
For me and little brother
One of them is tuna fish,
And one is peanut butter.
It's not too much to ask for,
A little change, we wish
Cause yesterday was peanut butter,
And the other tuna fish.
It's really quite frustrating,
Each day the same old thing.
That's why we often sneak off,
For a Whopper at Burger King.
I fixed lunch for my two kids the entire time they were in school. I know this scene well.
The way these two bags are touching, and all I can think of is Love. This picture also reminds of a friend from fifth grade who had eight siblings. On the nights I'd sleep over, the next morning was chaos as you could imagine. Chaos for us kids, and especially for her mother who prepared the same lunches every day to save time and probably money. And, my friend and her siblings would moan and groan in unison. Of course, they never knew how much love went into their lunch bags.
Hazy sun filters through
groggy eyes, sleep still
cushioned in their corners.
Dad's coffee bubbles
in the warming kitchen,
oatmeal sticks in the pot
while mum prods and pinches
this lazy body...
"I'm UP." A scream in my mind,
a mumble to the heap
of clothes everywhere
but in my closet,
dressing and washing
is always a blur;
cold floors, spitting taps,
unmatching socks.
When my cracking feet
finally stumble into
our wooden kitchen
with the yellow table
complemented by mum's
carefully prepared
brown bag lunches
I am awake, it's a door
to another dimension
there is activity, hustle
and bustle, there are smells
and sounds, like the sound
of the bus pulling up
and my dash to the door
slipping on shoes in a move
that makes ninja's drool.
My adrenaline pumping
I walk as calm as I can
to the back of the bus,
crashing in pure exhasution
willing school to be over
before it has even begun !
Hi Nancy, thanks for your nice comments on my blog.Truly appreciated.
Two brown bags on the table would mean that there are two children who will be picking up those bags on their way out the door to school. What would be in there? Perhaps a half baloney sandwich, a half peanut butter jelly sandwich, an apple, carrot/celery sticks and .25 cents for milk. At least that is what it used to cost way back when. Take care. Have a great week.
Interesting pictue. It could have so many stories behind it.
Love Renee xoxo
'How long we got until they come to take you away'.
'Two minutes'.
'That's enough to create a mini-paper bag'.
'What shall we name it?'
'Panini salami'.
Greetings from London.
(poem by Therese L. Broderick of Albany, NY, USA)
"GREEN THINGS ARE FLOWERS TOO"
(1st line of Frank O'Hara's "Poem")
Brown things are juices too--
the crease on this small paper bag
already greased from my finger's film
of mayonnaise ; and beneath it,
salivating, an umber tabletop shines
(lumber-lover that I am, I have gone to polish) ;
and the three-inch barette, tigerstripe,
which I undo now from my auburn hair
while thinking of you, the way you unwrap
your Tootsie Rolls -- it feels as though
the clasp is softening, melting down my Steiner
bronze-powdered shoulder
like molasses.
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