Poem #2,723 | This dishonest town

Mike Bell/ August 16, 2023/ www.mikebellpoems.com

This – my fraught analysis
of how days pass – shrink-
fit hours unqualified by a
daily pick of words to set
verse piles higher here – I
am a maker of maps & an
uneasy show designer – A
sixth decade almost up &
life is weighted by a sling
& pulled back to aim one
last pebble up [it will rise
or drop – my wild shot] – I
sit park-benched with my
sag of grocery bag [up on
Luxford’s slopes] – A kid’s
game played & I am back
in my fourth-ish decade &
being all family man for a
shorter breath out – I bear
my losses in public places
as an aulder gent eyes my
settle on his bench [his lie
of thanks for my shiftings
& I am off – I will move too
from this dishonest town]

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