Midden
︎︎︎ Sylvia Pollack
︎ April 13, 2021
Spinning through space plastic spoons and
bottle caps
broken Bic pens plead touch me with more than your eyes.
Shards of plastic seek consolation yet desolation reigns.
Detritus falls from great heights makes mandalas
on concrete floors If I’m held in too high regard
I might tumble from perfection's platform too
still wanting to please. Or better still be useful.
Have I outlived my usefulness? I am tea bag toothpick
Scotch tape dispenser. My country’s a garbage heap.
My nationality is now. Soothed by symmetry and repetition
let’s focus on the miracle of injection molding
forget the strip mines sweat shops strip malls.
Spin plastic shrouds text invitations to the funeral,
bring a bottle of single malt Scotch to the wake.
broken Bic pens plead touch me with more than your eyes.
Shards of plastic seek consolation yet desolation reigns.
Detritus falls from great heights makes mandalas
on concrete floors If I’m held in too high regard
I might tumble from perfection's platform too
still wanting to please. Or better still be useful.
Have I outlived my usefulness? I am tea bag toothpick
Scotch tape dispenser. My country’s a garbage heap.
My nationality is now. Soothed by symmetry and repetition
let’s focus on the miracle of injection molding
forget the strip mines sweat shops strip malls.
Spin plastic shrouds text invitations to the funeral,
bring a bottle of single malt Scotch to the wake.
Sylvia Byrne Pollack’s work appears in Floating Bridge Review, Crab Creek Review, and Clover, among others. A two-time Pushcart nominee, she won the 2013 Mason's Road Literary Award and was a 2019 Jack Straw Writer.