To Hide in Scarcity as We Sponge





To Hide in Scarcity as We Sponge

 

 

In the sun’s glare, find the bowl and spoon, the foreshadowed arrival. The yard is antidote. Inhale the light. Start eating. Arrive. Hear the lowly. The panacea of presence. No one says we’re less light than blight, less rock than sham, less glory than vain. No one says choose. Some said fate. Others ignore the growthless, the lack of outcropping, the relevance. Grab completion. Quiet the ground. Live in diversion. Disregard the scarcity of clarity, retreat, sit, and awaken in the trees like a wren. They took our difference, erased us.

They want us to sponge ourselves from the water. Stand.

 
 

David Bankson
 

 

David Bankson was finalist in the 2017 Concīs Pith of Prose and Poem, and his poetry and microfiction can be found in concis, (b)oink, Thank You for Swallowing, Artifact Nouveau, Riggwelter Press, Five 2 One Magazine, etc. He lives in Texas.

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