Little Nowhere

Little Nowhere

Some times there is a hope in the rot,
Sometimes the roach is just another sign that we’re alive,
The frailty of ruined frames draw power
from ones own insecurities,
Shove it away,
Shove it away,
What makes them live?

Downward glances,
and unstable footing,
they reflect the instability of structure,
the town is lost in their eyes,
Why can’t they see through mine?
They could always just take them.
It’s not a lost cause!
It just can’t be,
as those in the bar proclaim
after being laid off yet again.

 

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About Crystal Poor

I am a crafty and creative woman who is interested in poetry, art, long walks on beaches, and poking dead things on beaches with a stick. I have in recent years graduated from The Evergreen State College, got married, and am leading a fairly productive life outside in the world I love. It isn't always rainbows and butterflies but it's a good life, and I will keep creating things for as long as I live.

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