"methland" poems
we were just two more methland residents, dreams floating in our heads.
we were hoping to prove the american dream was not quite really dead.
but times sure change and so do dreams.
i guess.
We're not the next Spielbergs
We're not the next Mansons
we're too Fu^&ed; up for that.
but maybe some of our dreams won't die.
you and I can keep some alive.
We're not the next Clintons
We're not the next Tolstoys
we're not skilled enough for that.
I'll carry the 2.5 kids if you will buy the house.
They will paint the picket fence white and we'll hide
quiet as mice but acting like rabbits.
I'm not Ward and you're not June
but this will work out anyway.
we're not the next Cleavers
we're not the next Bradys
We're at least better than that.
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 5:24 AM UTC
Got my head buried in the ground
my feet are stuck in the clouds.
My boots are kickin' but that's no way to get out.
Deep in this hole i'm in, feet peddlin',
can't see through all this ground.
Looks like I'm stickin' around.
Don't wanna be round here
would rather be there (where?) anywhere.
Don't wanna be where folks are all the same,
oh god guys just forget my name.
This methland midwest community,
it ain't as bad as i make it out to be.
Perhaps the problem is at least a little me.
Or maybe it isn't.
Maybe this blackhole is bad luck.
Or maybe... ah who gives a ****
Don't wanna be round here
would rather be there (where?) anywhere.
Don't wanna be where folks are all the same,
oh god I hope i forget this place's name.
Half the roads are closed,
even detours,
the rest are filled with potholes.
That's okay.
My sense of direction ***** anyways.
Don't wanna be round here
would rather be there (where?) anywhere.
Don't wanna be where folks are all the same,
oh God, i wish it were easier to forget.
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 1:03 AM UTC