DEAD END STREET

by Nevada Kerr


White trash white-bred
With barbed wire tongues
Home school their young
On a dirty old homestead
Reeking of dung

Mother burns a brown gruel
On a red hot range
Barbital Barbra
Is vintage strange

Counting on slander
Father casts the first stone
But the sinner's grandeur withers
When the cash crop's gone

Devoured by fire
Forsaking blame
Pissing on tires
Reveling in shame

He breaks in and borrows
From men of good taste
Today and the morrow
The boozer berates

A lost generation
With a future on hold
A farm corporation
Sold and resold

A needle in his sore spot
A tingling in her brain
His heart stops; her soul rots
And now it never rains


Written by © Raven Drake
March 4, 2006.

Created: April 2006 © Paul Kinder

Last Updated: 16/4/06