Short Mercantile Poems

diamonds lie scattered
humans seem to choose pebbles
mercantile go mad



30 August 2021...

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In a world where slavery is a mercantile trade
 remember to be grateful to your legs
though they limp

I shall remember to thank my lips for the tired yawn
that activates the nerves each grey day
though they reek of charred tobacco

I shall remember to thank my lungs 
for purifying my soul while walking on grass
though I pant when I miss the elevator

Membranes beyond the nose 
for safe ventilation
eyelashes that gag emotions
the kneecap for play and prayer
 you're a deal...

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