Inanimate Instruction

Worn and somewhat cracked, the sidewalk

Beneath my bare feet offers no complaint;

Quietly bearing the maculae of

Fire-work stains and bird s**t,

All connected by a web of

Shallow fissures,

The concrete resolutely

Shoulders my weight--

Stoically and silently.

Despite life's eternal wearing

And tearing,

This conflation of stone and rock

Simply survives,

Accepting its constant

Degradation--

Something, it seems,

That is impossible for me

To endure without vociferous

Self-pity.

Reviews

[FJ Davis]

Despite being infused with generous imagery and undergoing a meticulous effort to employ the most accurate vocabulary, there is an emotional "leanness" to this poem that is appealing.
Very fond of this one, Ben; perhaps because I am a true "constant degrader"--in both senses of the phrase.