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Why I Break the Dishes by David B. Prather

October 3, 2023
Reading Time: 1 Minutes
Nominated for Best of the Net


I want to see my true self,
all my raw, unglazed edges,
all my broken pieces a puzzle
shattered on the floor. I want
to think of myself forged
from earth, fired in a kiln—
to see the dust beneath
 
the glaze. I want to search
all the kitchen drawers for glue,
something that will create a bond.
I’ve fallen apart before.
Sometimes, the smallest chips
and splinters must be swept up.
Sometimes, the decision must be made
 
to keep them or throw them away.
Shards will be lost, enough to see
the veins that mark the damage.
When I ask myself how strong I am,
I say ceramic. I say adhesion.
I say I can trace every wound
with the tip of my finger.
Best of the Net NominatedFree Verse
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The Weekly

Prather, David B.
David B. Prather is the author of WE WERE BIRDS from Main Street Rag Publishing. His poems, essays, and reviews have appeared in several print and online publications, including Prairie Schooner, Seneca Review, Poet Lore, Cutthroat, Cutleaf, The Literary Review, and many others. He studied acting at the National Shakespeare Conservatory in New York, and he studied writing at Warren Wilson College in North Carolina.

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