The Polaroid Land Camera As a Form of Ancient Punishment

At Hong Kong Supermarket
on East Broadway and Pike
in New York's Chinatown,
a small elderly Chinese lady,
caught with a piece of red meat in her bag,
is forced to the back by the owner.
He screams at her.
Dressed in a plain blouse of small black and white checks that
barely hang over her black pants,
she cowers.
Her hands still hold the bag,
but they hang strangely from the center of her body.
She cries as she begs the owner - "Ai, yi! Ai, yi!"
He calls his workers to hurry.
They do not call the police
but rush to the back
with the Polaroid Land Camera.
They make her hold what she has has stolen,
take her picture,
make her wait the one minute to be sure it comes out.
As her shame develops in full color,
they let her go.
She wanders to the front and stands for 10 minutes
amidst the huge, unblinking frogs in the white Styrofoam box,
the plastic packages of chicken uterei and skinned rabbits in the open freezers,
the thousand-year preserved duck eggs,
and the bins of thousands of tiny dried shrimp
too stunned to even see
her picture has been put with four other Polaroids on the cash register
under the sign 'BEWARE - SHOP LIFTERS!'
She and four men stand with what they had stolen.
A small yellow band is swathed across their eyes,
but to the owner,
the workers,
neighbors,
friends,
and relatives
the Polaroid has stolen their faces forever.
Tonight, her children will sleep with shame and hunger.

Brandywine
5/3/95