twoblueviolets

the Midwest is a snake eating its own tail.

get out get out get out is the head, beating in time with the heartbeat of every new baby born in these states, 

it's hard to remember when/ 

when the throat begins to scratch at the mouth, begging to be let free

when the stomach begins its churning waves like an upset ocean god

It's late when I pull into this town. the square is lively as my car sputters stop feet away from vision.

its a party. the people of the town running around and around and around, with carrots potatoes tomatoes everything the town has

Give me your tired, your poor, we say.

                            We will return them overworked and underpaid. 

It wasn't hot for once. Ohio remains hot every summer but the night seems to be like cold water poured over a fire pit:

the heat lightens up but the smoke of it hangs in the air, the remnants of what it was before.

Your God is not my God.  Stay with me now, I know this makes your hackles rise, your hands raised in the spiteful fear that you could be challenged. The fear of fraud.