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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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