F. Kate Langan, “Commodity”

A sparkling liquid silver rod
gorgeous at the turn of a tap
except for those whose lives are
filled with an abundance of
miraculous things they no longer see.


Essential, except to those whose
lives are so secure and
provided for that the change in
price of gas at the pumps is
an affront to their existence as
they buy bottled water by
the costly gallon.


A right to those who live lives
as boot-on-the-neck victims of
water stolen from their
rippling back yards and
sold to the dry city down
the road leaving them with
soiled dregs they can neither
drink, nor bathe in.


A weapon to those whose lives are
built on the backs of the poorly
unseen hoards toiling
to make them rich, in
countries far off with
out rods of gorgeous
silver pouring out; but with
locks on the doors their dreams of
wealth, health and freedom and
the keys thrown away.

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