Formaldehyde, Vinegar and Newsprint by Sharon Waller Knutson

He scrubs, lathers and suds
skin, hair and clothes
in scalding hot water.

Still the stench remains
of the vinegar in the vat
as cucumbers

marinate and pickle,
at the factory where
he works after classes.

Of the formaldehyde
he uses to turn the dead
into mummies

and mannequins
to pay for college
and his room across the hall.

Now he wears the scent
of newsprint proudly
as he takes photos and writes

for his hometown weekly,
sniffing the smell
of success on a city daily.



Sharon Waller Knutson is a retired journalist who lives in a wildlife habitat in Arizona. She has published several poetry books including My Grandmother Smokes Chesterfields by Flutter Press and What the Clairvoyant Doesn’t Say and Trials & Tribulations of Sports Bob which are forthcoming from Kelsay Books. Her work has also appeared most recently in Spillwords, Trouvaille Review, Muddy River Poetry Review, Gleam: Journal of the Cadralor, Verse-Virtual, Your Daily Poem, and The Song Is…