Privilege
The princess-colored azalea
blooms don’t care;
they make their branches heavy bright
and rouge the thuggish sidewalk
when they drop.
Buster, I’m the sort who cuts
across the muddy lawn,
ferrying soil
on my Ariat boots.
This is not
a complete
summary
of all transactions.
Oh, the universe is trying;
this morning,
I wished for Prosecco and Eggs
Benedict, but the Empire
would only
serve to me one rich omelette
and a glass of champagne;
it can be hard,
very hard, to live in the world.
*
Layla Benitez-James’s work can be found at Acentos Review, The San Antonio Express-News, The San Antonio Current and Gulf Coast. She lives in Houston where she recently received her masters in poetry and will be moving to Spain in the fall to finish a translation project.
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