White Picket Fences
Welcome to the land
Of white picket fences
Of home baked goods
And good homey intentions
Where actions don’t matter
So long as
“They meant well”
Welcome to the land
Of rickety fences
Of burn-outs and drop-outs
And unpaid expenses
Covered in layers
Of dust and grime
A white picket fence
Stained with Time
Welcome to the land
With a cookie-cutter past
Its pleasant exterior
Crumbling so fast
On the edge of town
There’s Suicide Valley
Where in the race of life
You’ll always come last
Where on a dare
You’ll cross the border
Separating Here from There
(and Everywhere Else)
On the edge of town
You’ll hover, legs spread
Over the town line
Peering around the bend
For a hint of headlights
Because the cool air
Once refreshing
Is beginning to sting
Your eyes
Your throat
Your lungs
On the edge of town
In sunny Suicide Valley
You hope for a quick collision
For peace to come crashing by
To put this town to sleep
At last.