we fled the suburbs
as wolves
out of
livestock corals
and
moved south
with good intent
the city smiles at
us
and hones our
acuity
for the art
and
its
mediums
stolen from
years ago
under her winged
canopy
we breathe
we weep
we bleed
and
we
count our blessings
there are no lies
here
and if you try to
hide ....
the zombies
will smell you
from miles away
everything
in its proper
little place
telling stories
and reminding us
to
keep living
Love is the
steam from beneath
the
sewer caps
dulling the sound
of poverty
and hardship
4 comments:
there's always someone who can smell you when you hide.
"everything
in its proper
little place
telling stories
and reminding us
to
keep living"
love this line!!
also-- thanks for your offer to help with the urban garden project-- it may not be this summer-- but i'm jazzed to know other people are on board!! i want to see how my little backyard garden takes--and then i can replant seedlings and such, next season! will def keep you posted!
and lastly-- cant. wait. to. try. mudgies. period. i am thrilled. thanks for the info :)
Love is the
steam from beneath
the
sewer caps
dulling the sound
of poverty
and hardship
True!
Beautiful!
Rambler again.
Now that the lines of wealth are quickly being erased between the city and the burbs this ongoing animosity may just shake itself out yet.
Time will tell and the telling time is going to be this year.
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