flatlands

it is all so flat here,
so lone and level, so lovely,
so dead and dying, such small
and twisted grasses and
nibbling jumping creatures,
flying swooping birds with
bloody beaks and objectionable cries.
it is all so flat here and
news rarely sparks and
when it does it catches into the grass,
then half the state is up in news.
I don’t know why people live here,
perhaps because,
for some reason or another,
they are dead and dying,
small and twisted,
lovely,
screaming their rage out over the plains
and hoping to be understood.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s