Nondescript
By Walter Burns
I live on a nondescript street in a nondescript home I let a lot of peace in Breathe it slow and exhale the impurities of my nondescript life My suburban town picks up the trash once a week I mow the yard dig the weeds I take pleasure in the moon the sun and the stars My neighbor waves what was her name she doesn’t know me she doesn't care The mowers hum all down the block my car is better Than her car Every night the crickets chirp and sing of their dull existence A friend of a friend of mine just died of Agent Orange Somewhere in a far off land while doing somebody else’s business Over the years off his pension he let a lot of peace in breathed it slow and exhaled the impurities of his own nondescript life can this dullness kill me too? have you ever seen a mess of crickets inexplicably lying dead? Written April 20th, 2002 © on Apr 20 2002 01:32 PM PST 0 • 10
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"I live on a nondescript street..."