poem

An uncomfortably negative poem I wrote today:

Small Southern City Pastimes

Mall-walking, people-watching
just to break the boredom of the day.

Wearing hair and make-up
unchanged since high-school hey-days,
these provincial passersby
overheard to say
their tepid thoughts out loud
in their lazy, local accents, proud
of their talking-point ideology on display.

Meanwhile…
Over-sized sugar addicts
Ponder the desert tray
With over-priced, flavored coffees—
a double-shot of flavoring today
for parent and child, their waddling
inherited, in a way.

If not for them, how could I feel
superior? Yes, that’s my deal:
thinking my loathing of them will somehow
          help to make self-loathing go away.

4 November 2013

Gadsden, AL