Tuesday, May 10, 2005
Alive
By the fresh trash behind this unpainted
building people live here. Lots of people
live here, down
the alley and along the drainage ditch, big
houses on the front street and tents in the
foreboding desert.
Bare-breasted boys live in cars near
their jobs when they have work. And
women make places
pleasant. They sweep the ground. They
hum at home. They’re never alone but
they always feel so.
The men grow less aware of life as
they mature. They turn into preachers
or bitter pariahs.
Life seeks niches and hollows. Folks
fold their hands over satisfaction and
follow the plan.
building people live here. Lots of people
live here, down
the alley and along the drainage ditch, big
houses on the front street and tents in the
foreboding desert.
Bare-breasted boys live in cars near
their jobs when they have work. And
women make places
pleasant. They sweep the ground. They
hum at home. They’re never alone but
they always feel so.
The men grow less aware of life as
they mature. They turn into preachers
or bitter pariahs.
Life seeks niches and hollows. Folks
fold their hands over satisfaction and
follow the plan.
# posted by Lar @ 1:10 PM 
