Poetry Archives - Page 2 of 14 - Baltimore Post-Examiner

Small Town

So you think our small town’s

so damn pretty

while you get on your soapbox

‘bout crime in the city.

U.S. troops liberated death camps

in the decade before my birth.

My parents didn’t use the word fascism.

But I knew what it meant.

Only two years before my birth,

Israel was declared a state.

A Chesterfield fast upon her lips (She’s almost Dorothy Parker) A whiskey neat at her fingertips (She’s almost Dorothy Parker)

Maybe the perfect world we seek Is not meant to be; Maybe the bliss of heaven Becomes hell for eternity;

Should I love my IED That goes off so suddenly Not hidden underneath, But for all to openly see?

Failure has taught me this: Nothing else matters, That if I could have a wish, I would binge watch Netflix

Sweet little salmon, so fast and so swift; She keeps up with the others so big and so strong. Swims

Sailing ahead, salt mists our sun kissed bodies as we rest on the bow of the boat Counting and observing

What is it like to be a beautiful dancer Of ballet, of jazz, of modern dance The traditional tutus and

They are scattered Maybe all but gone now, But I wish for a hint Of them In seeing them shine,