Saturday, February 25, 2006

GO!

Song to Suburbia
J.B. Rowell

Don't just throw them open,
unhinge, flatten walls
to make way
for pink and orange
sunset, tell the birds: Go!
The mountains are to the west
the ocean just east,
you can fly anywhere, even
roost in trees hooked
into faces of rock
in mist of waterfall.
Why are you here?
Standing
on my disposable house,
unknowing to unnatural
terrain.
Go!

3 Comments:

Blogger Pat Paulk said...

Go West or East young birds before the mountains and sea become condos! Excellent poem!

8:55 AM, February 26, 2006  
Blogger J.B. Rowell said...

Sea-Condos would be interesting . . .
;)
Thanks!

5:48 PM, February 26, 2006  
Blogger Pat Paulk said...

Some call those air craft carriers.

5:20 PM, February 27, 2006  

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