Driving through a downpour
In a Texas suburb
I pass
Cookie cutter houses
Probably with
Cocoa butter hand soap;
No different than the next family
All controlled handily
By societal expectations of happiness.
Birth – life – death,
School – work – retirement,
What does any of it really mean?
Paycheck – write check – food? check.
On a New Mexico summer day
I pass prairies full of pronghorns;
Happy because they can’t realize
There is nothing more than
Reproduction
In this world.
Finish school
Find a job
Find “your” pair
Start a family
Happy yet?
September 4, 2018 at 6:52 pm
Wow, you’re on fire! Ace!
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September 4, 2018 at 9:37 pm
I was going to say I especially like the second stanza, but then I read it again, and I simply like it all. Nice poem. Thanks.
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September 4, 2018 at 9:45 pm
Thanks so much!
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September 4, 2018 at 10:22 pm
Good, reading it made me think of Regina Spektor’s song “Little Boxes.”
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September 4, 2018 at 10:25 pm
I actually LOVE Regina Spektor and that’s an excellent song that does encapsulate the idea I was trying to get across here really well
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September 5, 2018 at 6:58 am
I like the sound of the poem a lot. I could imagine this as a piece for a poetry slam, even tho it’s a bit short maybe.
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September 5, 2018 at 7:30 am
Thanks! I tried a poetry slam once and it went terribly; I blanked on the last stanza and just froze in front of everyone. Maybe someday I’ll try again because I do love sound-driven poetry!
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November 23, 2019 at 12:09 am
Hi [owner of ShinyObjectsSite], though I don’t actually know your name. I was wondering how you were doing though I don’t want to force you to blog personally if you’re just in it for the poetry, which I dig. *snaps fingers*.
It’s good to see you around again. It’s hard to find nice people these days. I’m always to blame for that…
I’ll read up on your other posts in a few seconds. Just wanted to drop the line and say Hi.
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