Deron Eckert
Cockroach Rattling Around in America’s Ear
Don’t you just hate it: the terrifying things you hear
in the news: the so-called dangers to our families,
who just want to be themselves, the soon-to-be
trillionaire, who can’t prevent a product from bursting
into flames, the keys to the kingdom we gifted him
in a cloying deal that must’ve been birthed in hell,
or, maybe, just daddy’s emerald mine or a gilded,
sun-soaked golf getaway for only the rich to get
away with what they do when they are shielded
by walls of land or sea. They cannot be trusted.
They never could. That’s nothing new to anyone
paying attention over the far-too-long introductory
course of recorded history, the one that will never
stop rewarding the self-enrichment of the powerful:
the kind afforded by surveillance that would make
Big Brother’s cheeks blush as the cherry trees come
into bloom outside the windows of those who can’t
see past the financials they view like a fast food
menu, gnawing on one question: What else can be
devoured? If only the short-lived blossoms outlasted
the men who don’t bother to watch them bloom then
fade because they could never find lasting beauty
in a short term investment that lines only the streets
and sidewalks fit for just anybody to walk down.
How disgusting for something as precious as a flower
to be free to anyone who takes the time to look around.
Deron Eckert is a poet and writer who lives in Lexington, Kentucky. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Atlanta Review, Appalachian Journal, Blue Mountain Review, Rattle, Stanchion, Beaver Magazine, The Fourth River, and elsewhere. He can be found on Instagram at @deroneckert.
Banner Art:
Photo by Shino Nakamura, Unsplash, 2024
