Small Town notes:
The secret to living in a small town is knowing when to go!
The town that finds you will bind you!
It’s time to give up the drugs…When the drugs give up on you!
Immoral acts are a prelude to the immoral scars left on you!
You, yourself and someone that looks like you…
Either way your wear your town well.
the baggage, the backtalk, the smell.
New Hampshire has yet to step away from sedate behavior it has grown accustom to…Franklin is it’s skanky underbelly without under garments!
It drink it in as though, it were my original sin.
Tin boots beating at the paneled walls…that hold my mind in place.
A cool breeze canvases karma and comes away…whispered reminders of debts yet…to be paid.
How daring to not imbibe when the spirits surround my blind side.
The hoarse intonations gather at the base of bad decisions…
And, what I hear?
...there is no place to hide. I will find me!
It is my town.
For the ordinary, it recedes under your nails, and creeps around.
For the blessed,
it settled in your soul and grows old.
Gritty ghosts with broken spokes can fade into view.
Sainted storms on a slant.