White Picket Fences by Lianne Gallant

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.