Hey, Yeah!

We are riding on a train to the Populist rally with the prim and proper people of the Shenandoah valley, got the literature and pamphelts and a spraypaint gold cross. Remember, meet me at the social if we somehow should get lost. We are all done with learning, this process of profit-less nebulous earning of good grades on quizzes while farmers dump milk down rusty old trains, thick white trails of silk that are being screamed at by the hardscrabble poor who ask that the liquid may run to their floors because everyone’s thirsty, so thirsty and dry. No one can speak because everyone tried but all turned to dust, red eyes, soft sighs to whimper through, too light to deny.


~ by perfectionatrix on February 1, 2010.

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