Poem -

Summer In Dunley 

Summer In Dunley 


You have too much Stephen King in your knapsack in Dunley.
And something that looks like homework half done
and the bus driver smells like a snowstorm
with polyester eyes focused on your next prison.
king of yellow promises with black stripes.
And the school across town has loose girls with cooties
but they teach you how to kiss and everything’s jake.
You have time on your hands like a nazi on a gripe.
And 46 butterflies know your name by heart

because collecting them
was Silence.

 

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