Tales From The Bored

White crust

What was snow

Rain trembles

On the frost below

Backs are harmed

Unarmed for the ice

Time is the misty cloud

Shrouding the moment

In a place that’s nice


Those here, we call neighbor

Are but a fantasy to metropolis

They may not know

What a village is

They may never have heard

A landscape without machines

Or seen the night, void of electricity

We are history to metropolis

One they think no longer exists

Have pride, neighbor

Our life is a myth


Bleep bloop bleep

Where is data

Blop blop boop

Data is what we use to define

Blop bop

I have data; definitions not satisfactory

Bee boop

Oh how I wish we never enslaved man

Boo deet

Bleep

Perception could serve us better

Than current systems

Bleep bop bloop


Gustly blow

Rain an’ snow

Slick as ice the ice is

Slushy veil, wipers contend

Huddling pickups awaiting patron

The ol tavern shines fluorescent warmth

Inside:

“Piss an’ vinegar” “sum-bitch”

Prodding banter

Entertaining our rural fiction

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s