Suburban Poems - Poems about Suburban

... In the cool of an autumn morning my father and his friend, Jimmy Kerin, would go mushroom picking in paddocks way out past the last suburban fence. I would tag along not to pick but feel th......Read the rest...

...Do poets always walk in the rain? This poet once did When she was but a kid. The bathwater of summer drops Cascading from suburban chimney tops, Puddles on pavement Begging for splashing, A ro......Read the rest...

...where are the old wanderers, whatever happened to Steve> a different holy book in hand every week, the wise man of the thrift store. “we just aren’t made for these times.” you’ve eithe......Read the rest...

...Suburban resident pretense, a bleak uniformity. I grew up among the repetitious homes, isolated alienated, I wandered the conformity, the endless square yards, the dull feckless syndrome. Repug......Read the rest...

...There was this guy, see, a high-flyer type, made a bit of a name for himself. He moved in like a year before, you know, started off slow. He ended up going crazy for the girl next door. His......Read the rest...

...We settled into Baltimore after rejecting several locations after the dreaded shoot out thus move seemed right although two Suburban trucks tailed us from the airport the driver was excellent at dist......Read the rest...

...No prettier flowers match the ones Lynn nurtures with immense care; all her fantasies seem to adhere... as if they were evocative lyrics! Crape myrtle trees are blooming early, they beautify t......Read the rest...

...We danced all night on Maxwell street singing the blues and eating chicago style hotdogs driving by Halsted my hair blew in the breeze as I winked at the Cermax river flowing of winter gree......Read the rest...

...Remember when we believed a NYC street block was too far? 50th, 51st, 52nd, and so on... well, state boundaries stack those blocks, and now there are thousands, maybe millions, blocking. My prescho......Read the rest...

...(Approaching Ingalls Peak, 2012, original oil) Rites of Passage Forty-six years ago, my first winter in the Pacific NW my first winter break at college, I headed out to climb Mt Stuar......Read the rest...

...Walking, walking, thinking One mood of music, one single song Repeating, repeating, repeating… …fading in and out of my consciousness Now the cold breeze making me feel formal and stylized in my......Read the rest...

...I like to think I could do it if I wanted to I tell myself it's situational, these things It's not your fault, it's not your fault Look around Everything is dying And I didn't see thi......Read the rest...

...In this landscape, lies a nest made of brown brittle leaves, cracked asphalt, and tire flattened filters this creature, stands broad shouldered and stupid with a flat face and eyes open so......Read the rest...

...I was born in a muddy time created to be a field of broken bricks. Years wove their weeds. There was hope, enclaves of suburban heavens old men in grim pubs spoke of. You might think that ......Read the rest...

...DEAD END STREET --WHY do dead end roads Exist "Are you my enemy, if you’re not my friend? Alternative exit without exit should be posted dead end When “Google” tells you turn right......Read the rest...