Gnome in Blue


It is a whole childhood cut open,
it is the meat uncooked and drained of blood.

It is the expectation, the assumption
that cattle graze openly, die cleanly.

If we really consider it,
we expect swift

mercy; not tied down for injection
or the flash of a gun muzzle.


Planted in the garden, blue
shirt worn, face bright with red cheeks,

as if a mock gnome could have real
feelings, guarding our plants and herbs,

guarding our family and brick home
from the outside. But the darkness lay inside.


In the forest, gnomes are clothed
cattle injected from behind — blue

because they love blue creatures,
blue because of the blue inside them.

Living in blue keeps the gnomes alive.


Read more of David Bankson‘s previous entries:

the ugly writers the ugly writers the ugly writers