suburban blues…

i’m writing from a far away place…
send help…
peace has set-in…

there are no gunshots…
sirens do not scream…
children in the streets do not yell…

i am a foreigner here…
this land of my youth…
left so long ago…

i have changed…
it has remained the same…
where is the conflict…

inside these safe and stable homes…
in SUV’ s…
someone is unhappy…

a father feeling neglected…
mother unloved…
child seeking solutions on a cellphone…

and i left for new adventures…
the cities of america…
done with suburban blues…

i’ve seen the grit and grime…
through dirty shards of glass…
i’ve seen america…

but…now…in this hour…
with porch-lights aglow…
dewy grass that shines in midnight’ s moon…

i see America…
i hear the rattles of air-conditioners…
the hum of suburbia…

it is safe…
too safe….
perhaps nowhere is safe…

papers thrown by a peddling paper-boy…
house-lights begin to come-on…
and it is morning in America…

goodnight…

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