posting a daily poem as an attempt to break me of the habit of sharing excerpts of my perfectly perfect novel which is going so well that everyone is falling over themselves with praise for whatever of it they read....
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Montana, springdale, columbus, mint, catalina, winnebago, ultralite, carbon, flagstaff, cougar, apex
Did any of these people vote Hillary?
Fishers, teenage girls in sweatshirts with gymshorts, kids biking next to the water without helmets, all there to see the reflection of the setting sun on the bay.
Their own personal Battery Park. A slice of Red America living like Blue America, chasing the American sublime within their budget on Bethany Bay, near the summer home of a president they loathe.
Near them their bosses hold the beach mansions where you see the best views, watching Fox News along with the sunset while their employees fish between surfings of townhall.com
The road to the mansions has a Dead End sign.
The seagulls chirp and shit all through it like the assholes they are.
On the way out you see a beautiful forty-something walking her terrier and Maltese in biking gear; giant nerd glasses and a pixie cut.
If we can make it here, we'll make it anywhere.
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