Somewhere somewhere by Jonathan Beale

I am not a silent poet

The dull dives

of the east, west, and southside:

A loud unharmonious

Noise was heard to beat, beat, beat

What monsters the TV

Breeds and in this

Self-perpetuating

Swamp that needs cleaning?

Somewhere – somewhere

In streets and sidewalks

He spoke to me and will

Look after me – me – me

When breeding the though

And airing to the masses who

Want to hear – hear – hear

that they are not us. Not us.

They can fight our misguided

Wars without being part

Of out central cause. The words

short as they fall down the drain.

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