Archive for April 4th, 2011
Suburban Warfare.
Dread of painted, cleansed brown box.
Sing bright angst and run.
Streets wave thick daring white flags.
No hope for peace or loving.
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American Culture, Day Job, Death, Depression, Failure, Fear, Isolation, Poems, Poetry, Tanka
I come in sadly,
greeting crusty red faces.
One hand shakes firmly.
Crusty good. Am I crusty?
Wondering if God is here.
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Alcoholism, Angels, Compassion, Depression, Fear, Poems, Poetry, recovery, Safe Places, Seeking God, Spirituality, Tanka
