For years I have waded in plenty, fingers Wrinkled with the evidence of fulfillment. Belly gross with abundance, I birthed discontent again and again.
I became blinded, eyes watery with With surplus, reflecting only quantity. I praised commerce heartily ad infinitum Bending my knees in supplication to its institutions. The Mall, The Supermarket, were holy ground.
I have lost my faith, and think, sacrilegiously, of summer afternoons in the mountains. There is no text beneath the painted dusk. Twilight falls without a sponsor. I do not Enjoy Coke. I look, furtively, for places Visa isnβt, and drink tap water when no one is looking. I remind myself that rainbows donβt taste of candy and that M&M;βs have melted in my hand