Three Poems
by Robert Martens
Robert Martens transforms into lyric poetry his childhood experience of growing up in the Mennonite community in British Columbia's Fraser Valley. The three poems appearing here move through depictions of his childhood village, Sunday School pranks, and adult experience in the city.
Muriel T. Stackley
Martens’ repeated line, “you can smell Russia,” reminds me—especially now that Mennonite eyes are turned toward the Paraguayan Chaco experience:
In 1995 I attended a Sunday communal meal outside one of the churches in Filadelphia. To feed the crowd there was meat from five cows, prepared in the foregoing 24 hours. Meat, bread, and mustard—that was the meal. But not just any old mustard. “This,” I was told, “is mustard so hot that you can see Russia.”