DB: Harvest Feast

Exit133 had the pleasure of attending the Tacoma Farmers Market benefit dinner on Saturday night at Terry’s Berries. Harvest Feast was certainly a feast. Charlie McManus from Primo Grill slow roasted two pigs. Dessert was provided by Old Milwaukee. Sigh. Good food. A band serenaded us and Daniel Blue read a poem that had everyone present cheering.

The beautiful sunset, harvest moon, flowers, white tablecloths, wonderful company, and great food equaled a memorable evening. Please enjoy Daniel’s poem. Although reading it is not the same as hearing it.

I step outside into the mellow downtown Tacoma sun
the homeless and the lawyers who park in my alley greet me as one
and I am with them in this
and we are all responsible

I push myself with purpose past my automobile
for where I’m going I won’t need wheels
cause its so far in the future
that we have abandoned our old habits

These smoky loud cumbersome wads of metal
chained to the pavement as money seeps out their tanks

Where I’m going I’ll have only my footwear to thank
when I arrive in one piece and a handful healthier for the exercise

The people I pass on my path carry smiles and cloth bags
stuffed with mysteries I will soon describe to myself by consuming them raw

And yes as I pierce the veil of the market banners and enter the crowds
I am proud of free enterprise, I delight in my consumeristic tendencies
I am happy to participate in this glorious reciprocal economy.

Here we are not recessed, we are abundant
as the neat rows of color bleed from the stalls into the dinners of my neighborhood kitchens.
The fresh smell of the earth’s gift mixes in my mind with the din of voices raised
this happy connection at the knowledge that we are one

And I am with them in this
we are all responsible
the earth for her secret magic
the sun for his light and warmth
the rain for its kisses of life
the farmer for the hope and the weathered hand
and the urban dwellers who have chosen
to find their food close

My circle is simultaneously wider and more compact
as I hand the hands that picked my produce
money that was handed to me for the labor of mine
I am drawing the people who pay me into the circle

Is my boss responsible
for what i spend my check on?
Does he know the true fruit of my labor?

I return home and find myself on the phone
calling the ones I love
hoping to share my bounty
to tighten my circle,

Tonight we feast on what has grown here beneath us
“this needed no distribution center”
I will say at the table
this needed no packaging plant
no vitamin fortification
no preservatives
it did not need to be frozen
tucked, trucked and #$*%@ed up before it found its way on our plates

HERE HERE!

The farms tie us to the land
and the land ties us all together
we are all responsible
because we all here

HERE HERE!

Three cheers!

One for the farmers hands!

hip-hip
(HURRAY!)

One for the city who lets us use her streets!

hip-hip

(HURRAY!)

And a cheer for you, my fellow conscious consumers, for being here!

hip-hip

(HURRAY!)