Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

between bong hits

discarded aluminum
stretched
over an old Maxwell House can
to cradle shitweed
and little baby sips
of blackberry schnapps
they wait
for the other shoe to drop
but it's a H-Bomb
and there is no time like
the present
to extinguish fires
in the brain, and it's a
jet-smooth ride
from the woods behind the mall
for an enlightened rogue's
tortured mind, cleverly
marking time
by the piss rings on the maple bark
to ground zero.......
the never-promised land.

Fine poem.

"where do the children play"
"man child in the promised land"
"I'll get by with a little help from my friends"

random passing thoughts

I drove a school bus in Montgomery County Maryland
for so called emotionally disturbed children
for some reason they trusted me
and let me into their secrete worlds
in the wooded lot behind the big shopping center
and under the I-495 bridge in Wheaton




your poem reminded me of them

thank you
fine poem

thanx dadio and truck.....sounds like a real privilege truck, they must have picked up on your good vibes that you would not betray them......in a story about a year or so ago, in that very area, there were some homeless folks living behind a mall, can't recall the actual town, might have been Crofton...anyway......when they began to beg in the front of the mall.....they sent in a bulldozer to crush their meager possessions.....one item was a family bible......once again commerce trumps and tramples.... people......aghh