An Antidote of Bread

surviving toxicity

An Antidote of Bread


A linearity in his soul
lacking a round wholesomeness
that makes up the whole

He built his house in feet and inches
The holiness of place lying in ditches
When he turned a screw
or hammered a nail
curse words hung in the throat of his tail
Walls rose from plywood's own sound
creating illusion in the dream of the home

While I in my littleness sat on the ground
awaiting toxicity that would be mine to own
As days passed into years
the walls of this house came a silence of tears
When the poison was fully bred
I went out into Earth
finding an antidote of bread.

Reviews

[Alfred Kukitz]

I can envision those days, my dad, the milkman, up somewhere on the structure of the house while I sat on the ground watching.

Thanks Jacob!

Regards,
Al

[jacob erin-cilberto]

sometimes man does live by bread alone...and the meek will inherit the earth, because they know they are but a small part of everything...

reminds me of an old Cat Stevens song "he built his house on barley rice, green pepper wood and water eyes" something like that...

i like the places this poem took me.

j.