David Poplar
NAVIGATION BY SPOONLIGHT

Six hundred thousand children in the Horn of Africa are dying
from ribcages bloated with hunger. They wait
for helicopters filled with peanut butter.

–from “To the father at the restaurant” by Julie Krystyna Cheng

Helicopters of peanut butter stick
To the marshmallow clouds. Like raisins
In pristine white dough—the type of bone-ground
Dough that will someday become fine china.

No, you see, the sky is not the limit;
The sky is just a small round bowl.
We bounce around the edges,
Never finding the corners.

But in the serrated light of the spoon,
I hear a voice. It sounds like someone old
And very, very tall. I’m not sure
If he is the one with the spoon, or if I am.

He tells me I have high cholesterol.
I don’t eat enough fiber, almost no fruit.

David Poplar is a graduate student at the Brandeis University, where he studies Philosophy. He has published work in Boston Literary Magazine, Apiary Online, and PennAppetit, as well as more avant garde publications, such as the Dickinson Law Review and the New Jersey Law Journal.

Read more from Cleaver Magazine’s Issue #3.