Heartland

The hours start to stretch toward infinity.
The humid air has figured out how it can
Penetrate my clothes. The local boys,
Slack-jawed and stupid, shuck and jive
Beneath a tree. They're keen on lynchings,
Rapes, and ice cream socials at the Baptist
Church. I dream of Derek Walcott, and of
Manners, graces not found here. I dream
Of minds less circumcised than these, of noble
Sentiments, which even I cannot define,
As savagery extends its reach beyond infinity.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 111 times
Written on 2019-06-04 at 13:24

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