On the corner
“The road goes on forever and the party never ends,” he said in his Facebook status. Remember that, in 2007? Perhaps he’s living in a desert - isn’t that where they all go, when the skeletons in the closet get buried beneath us? I thought this account got reported, at least, is anyone listening at the key hole that is my poems? I wonder about people, their words. I wonder if life is a party, or if that road leads to a stop sign somewhere in the tundra, at a red light we call nostalgia.