Desperate search for roofs
Within this friendliest of towns
The old wolves pushed
Further out, into boxes
That have been painted
Over and over and over again
In dusty neighborhoods
Who threaten to pave
Their dirt roads
With yellow bricks
For the ones from
The other side of the rainbow
Or whoever is willing
To place a bid on life
Until only money
Can rent a space
In the city that is the model
Of passion and change
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Chilling thought. Wonderfully images.
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This is beautiful. *-*
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Thanks for liking Write Light. Your poem on New Hooverville got me thinking about life and circumstances and taking my abode for granted.
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Is this somewhere in America? I’m always shocked by the poverty in America. We send aid to other countries when some people are starving right here. Where are their infomercials? Where are the celebrities touting their rhetoric to save a child in America?
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