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Son of Suburbia

Unleaded (For The Moderates)

January 10, 2012

by Son of Suburbia Mud tufts on the overpass tinge black, Not withstanding the oily rainbowed shine of progress. “Crank the A.C., the heater, the noise.” (terminate engine droning boring exhaust) We’ve got plenty miles left and We don’t yet know where. That mechanical lull of windshield wipers for a roadtrippin rainstorm. It’s too...
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Two Poems by Son of Suburbia

December 18, 2011

by Son Of Suburbia Age of Factions Politically correctly speaking, Begrudgingly looked away, lived. Insinuations, subtle instigations As blunted daggers written into ballots cast. But complacency settles second hand thought containers. Yet I could eat full. My children rested in a comfort majority in school yards. I had a job, But then it happened....
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