It's not where you're from, it's what it does to you..

Just...
slightly left of centre
left out

left behind,
close enough to be the heart

 but somehow miss  the beat

two hours from everywhere
and miles away from anywhere,
the poor kid, playing keep up

born with clay for feet


always talk of " then" we had it
looking back to when they had it
never knowing they'd lost it

lives

 falling out of time

the big town schemers
throwing
small town believers
against the wall

whose bricks
pot dust
and marrow
bind