I don’t have a title yet

I walk on this red soil

it looks black in the dampness

but it's really yellow

this is not a poem...

grasslands ancient as the hills

but lacking trees

they keep sowing grass

bailing hay

80 acres at a time...

don't hardly see any rabbits

My home has changed

it's ashes

up some holler

I don't live on anymore

New owners

are blocking off

the graveyard road

county is letting them do it

I'm helpless

so I just open the gate

and walk up it.

I havne't written in a long time

other than inside my own head

the words are beautiful then

on paper

meaningless.

I thought maybe if I started to try to write something

pain and anguish would come out

and maybe I'd stop bitching so much

stop crying so much

they wanna vax a strange mutation of the common cold out of existence

this world is stupid

i hate it.