Kicking a bottle cap
accidentally
an echo in the alley an aural portal
to a dusty and hot place
somewhere in antiquity, somewhere desert
where women’s bowls, cracked,
left deeply embedded beneath
many feet walking miles and miles
to and fro, like we do now, for nothing
than a few coins, a few grains, some fish
Men molded dream women
even then, now we find them buried
missing a limb or a digit, like now,
we’re all missing something
though we think it’s heavy and important -like time-
but how much time does it take to laugh
or sniffle at a flower?
Horace would laugh at our tweets,
earnest influencers’ odes to prosceniums
full of silicone and chrome
we compare mud and silver
and kick a pebble down the dusty road
like we do, like we did, like we will.
…
(City Poems prompt, @UutPoetry. “Artifacts” published on Substack. Check out the relaunch of UutPoetry at Substack, with poetry, process, and prompts to peruse.)


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