GROWING UP TO MCCARTHY
I grew up in a struggle. Like always. Like there was no peace. Ever. But for the Bay. That blue quiet light. What can i say? Inside the edges of childhood sick red baited & bothered, It made you bonkers in a new way; the house shook on its stilts. No silk. Just struggle. What more can i say?
Bias Burning Time
Bigots have no spigots of charity They burn bias with threaded needles As a way of catching and trapping us God save all our souls from this evil contamination Of such wickedness and sadness. Let us stand on the streets together Tall and proud And read poetry with each other Hug and love with all our muster To share a shining nuance of the wonderful While this untenable world circumnavigates around in crippling blindness
Feeling the hunger in the streets I don’t matter anymore my slow lapse a particle in the span of ubiquitous wanting everywhere barbarous greed and rapacious capitalist tyranny
©2020 Linda Chown
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