“aint no such thing
as the calm of the evenin’
an that quiet you hear
is a trick..”
as the words disappear
and the sirens get screamin’
they splinter the silence
right quick..
on the corner, the new crop
the young ‘gits is slangin’
they dope or they bitches
or both..
as they mamas light votive’s
pray the gods have forgiven
their freshly dead son’s
bloody oath..
as neighborhoods molder
under trash and addiction
punctuated by bullets-
pop pop..
we busy ourselves
with designer distractions
going green,, and how local
we shop….
Thru Violet's Lentz 
You’ve captured the spirit of the times, again. 🙂
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Sometimes I think the only creativity I have is reality.
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So much sadness in the news. I make it a point to read at least one good news article everyday.
Sometimes I’ll just skip the local paper’s headlines.
Desolation can overwhelm – the ‘trick’ I suppose is to live presently by giving creatively. Even though sometimes that is hard. There is only so much one can give to those who suffer memory loss. Perhaps they are the lucky ones? Starting every new day fresh, though with I suppose limited expectations.
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Thanks for stopping by Jules. I just don’t want to allow myself to be distracted by things that have no real place in the larger scheme of things. People over produce- if that makes sense….
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