Beauty for Breakfast – a poem by Ariella Katz

Beauty for Breakfast


When they come for me, they will not be able to find me because I’ll be hidden in stones and oatmeal and three minute words.

I will not die —
Beginning to remember.


Morning times.
Morning crimes.
Morning rhymes.


Somebody lost a glove,
………but it is not me.
………………………Mine is not on the ground. I do not
..know where mine is.

Your eyes tire me out, but I will listen. I will devour the breakfast that you have prepared for me and clean the plate with my bread, mopping up the very last drop.


Reading the Gospel of Matthew, we rise with him to the mountain top

and plunge into the epistemic anxiety of the parables. The Sermon gives us clarity.


Trying to interpret the parables reminds us that God’s intellect is beyond

the comprehension of our own. As we wrestle with the apparent


contradictions and tensions of divine justice, we can perhaps,

in our own extremely limited way, partake in the vulnerability


that he felt when he submitted himself to the ultimate just injustice

decreed by God. But because of this, we can all the more share


The ….weight of yours
On the weight of mine
Your breath

Our breath

Because of your freckled.


Ariella Katz is a Boston native living in Moscow, Russia. Her writing has appeared in Arion, The Gate, and East from Chicago. She is the co-editor of Does the Sun Have a Light Switch? A Literary Criminal Almanac, an anthology of stories and poetry by formerly incarcerated people in Moscow.

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