Like news of plague
the news of corruption filters
into my town,
down my road,
stops at my house.
Rank weeds outgrow my cultured plants.
I let them.
Grapes rot on the vine.
I let them
Dogs shit on my lawn.
I let them.
Boards slip from my house.
I let them.
The years fall away.
I let them.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
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