ONE: Work by Marina Weisburg / by Marina Weisburg

Gibson Beach, 2001

As I was stuck in the riptide
swallowing mouthfuls of salt water
an ear of corn floated towards me
like a poisonous buoy
or a buoyant rotisserie

Trying to keep my neck out of water
the cob rolled in the beachy foam

Drowning, and Hungry.

Swim along the beach
parallel to the beach
but I can’t keep my eyes off that bobbing cob

grilled corn
corn on the cob
corn chowder
candy corn
corn crème brûlée
kernels of corn sprinkled on an ice cream sundae

I closed my eyes
and dipped my sun burnt face
into the boiling pot of corn
choking on
the popcorn curdling over the edges
the surf spitting out
flecks of hot butter

let’s solve this popcorn mystery
I know the way through this kelpie corn maze

I am the corncob queen
I wear a corncob hat
and rule with a corncob staff
I grin
and my teeth are yellow kernels
lined up like tombstones