I Want to Hear Your Story

Exhausted bodies huddle in a dark room
Waiting for a plan, hoping for the best
The car’s belly cut open by a hole in asphalt
Two feet deep and six months old
The words ‘dead end’ written in rot on the wall
Because outside is dangerous; and nobody cares
Frosty air seeps from a creeking white box
The rustle of plastic disturbs the stillness

A virulent concoction of sodium and neon
Ravaging the countryside
Poisoning the water, immolating the trees
Paralyzing the young, asphyxiating the old
[i]Screaming[/i] for attention in a cacophony of sterile voices

There once was a man from Nantucket...