- we ate out of cans
we let the grass grow
we lived at the end of the street
we wrote earnest and pretentious poetry
we played records late
we painted on the backs of cardboard boxes
we drank on weeknights
we worked low-paying dead end jobs
we shared weed like it was significant
we romanticized the sixties
we were certain Reagan would blow up the world
we did not plan for retirement
Poetry
AT LONG LAST from John Hicks on Vimeo.
sometimes I want to flee
the concrete land they made for me
through the weed grown ditch
the overgrown ravine
into a jungle
with mountains on the other side
where men with no uniforms
want to kill me with sticks and stones
sometimes I feel like the glorious history of civilization
could just evaporate
like a puddle on a hot summer day
This is a subject I think about again and again. Girly girl, girl who likes boy stuff or what my mom told me is a tom boy, girl, boy, whatever. I wonder why girls and boys like the stuff they like and if they are happy to be that way. Or is someone telling them what to like and what to be? I like to do so many things so I was thinking what am I? Here is my poem answer.
before you were born
the years stretched into the past
it was a world without you
He sat for the longest time staring blankly into the distance. Finally he saw that there was…