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Kingdom Come

Rural Route Three.



This is God’s Green Earth

Where Hope applied

And got denied.

Where teenage brides

Watch children ride

Hand me down bikes in

Hand me down clothes.

Heads down riding fast past

Boarded up houses.

Past lives and

Past spouses.


Staplegunned in plastic.


Ripped from hinges.


In the cupboard.


In the sink.


Scraping the ceilings.

Beating their wings in silence.

First Published by The Orchards Poetry Journal

Free Guns. Amen. Free Will. No Go. Road Kill. Road Show. Play Fast. And Loose. Get Cooked. By Your Goose. Get Goosed. By The Cook. Sucker Punch. Captain Hook. There Are Gods. In The Sky. Captain Crunc

Like A Loaded Nun. Hot Like Your Cinnabon. Hot. Like The Midnight Heat. Hot. Like A Piece Of Meat. There Are Chances. That We Take. Cheap Romances. That We Fake. There Are Moments. That Are Real. Mome

Tastes like chicken but like everything else it’s not. The liver is Nagasaki. The lungs Hiroshima or Jesse James and Dear Old Death comes to us all but the quiver is fantastic. Like lips full of bees.

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