Waiting in the fields, but I ain't (am not)
I'm not wasting a second. I'm
lighting up tobacco leaves; stained (cancerous)
I'm standing, cigarette under my shoe. But
the men are walking 'round (around)
Walking around me like a swarm (helping hand)
Drooping eyes; working hand; here I am digging
(guilt, still) "Hey look I'm sorry for standing 'round"
(around) "—standing 'round"
Men ain't (are not) ain't saying a word
Look to the farmhouse, never liked it (beauty)
Never liked that awful red, that sickly white
I think that light's still on (help, stay)
"Imma," (I'm going to) "Imma
go check on the house boys, thanks a ton."
Trudging through the mud (dirt)
It's wet (dry) out, 'specially as I open the
door. Guess I — (stop) Guess I — (stop)
Jesus, guess I'll walk on out (fire)
Lightbulb still needs fixin' (fixing)
Lightbulb still needs fixing.
- Author: J.D (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: January 17th, 2024 17:45
- Comment from author about the poem: Internal dialogue, killer of security. What do we really know? What do we recognize? Are we aware of our own sanity? All questions posed in this piece.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 6
Comments1
Excellent work
Thanks!
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