Pickles

A Poem by Heather Bereskin

A short poem about pickled cucumbers.

Bobbing in a glass jar on the shelf

Like animals in a laboratory.

Beady eyes unblinking,

Staring through the murky formaldehyde juices.

Rubbery skin, shining under the fluorescent fixtures

Of the grocery store aisle.

I select my next victims,

Based on looks alone.

© 2012 Heather Bereskin

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Reviews

B. Benson McMullen

Gotta love dem pickles.

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 13 Years Ago

GamingGal

Oh wow, this just made me think of things bobbing in chemicals in a laboratory. Comparing pickles to that....not sure if I'll eat them again for a while. That or simply not eat them from a jar.

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 13 Years Ago

Heather Clayton

Loved the expressive words you used. Well done. I don't think I'll eat pickles for a while though...

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 13 Years Ago

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286 Views
3 Reviews

Added on May 23, 2012
Last Updated on May 31, 2012

Author

Heather Bereskin

Bloomington, IN

About

I'm a 25 year old budding writer with a degree in English and Comparative Literature from the University of Cincinnati living in Bloomington, Indiana. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Things.. more..