Plastered County

Plastered County


In the nonstop traffic,

Can’t tell how far is next

Stop, blinded by the addiction

Of rushing across white stripped

Lines and the yellow hazard

Zones, this plastered county is

Addicted to blindsided negligence

Of innocence like coke addicts

Sniffing and snorting as if it

Was as easy as pixy sticks

In a straight row, how far

Will this county go? When

Will it let go?


We’ve played tricks on our

Selfish minds, we’ve hated

Long lines in supermarket

Sweepstakes, it’s as if we

Are always aching for

Contentment but without

The ointment, resentment

The parents that give license

To parry reprimanding,

Afraid it will lead to

More burying of fear in the

Ground, but here’s where

The plaster covers the heart,

Your face means everything

Like the beamer in front of

The Lexus that’s in front of

The Mercedes that upsets

Traffic like a tumor ever

Expanding, the rumor has

It that you’re getting fat

And soon you hide like a bat

Appalled at this plastered

County that validates identity

By the bullets of vanity like

Velvet silk, slipping in this

Land of milk and honey, not

Holy matrimony but rather a

Calligraphy of escaping to the

Next greatest vacation spot,

Seems like this is all we got,

The ability to fake it,

All of life and its attentiveness,

Implants to juxtapose that

Single mom who never did

A thing wrong to earn a

Life of an arduous uphill

Ascent, vanity has many

Nearsighted and the impetuous

To wait with the plastic surgeon

Meanwhile the burgeon is

Headlining the broken

Station wagon of world

Outside this county,

Rich with bounty,

Comfortable like

Fluffy stuffed animals,

Fake smiles and new

Basement tiles, anything

Tactile, the rest of the world

Sits and stares, aims the gun

With flares and signals

The plastered county with

Much despair, whether or

Not you earned it is not the

Point of contention, or your

Early pension, sure you’ve

Earned it but will you close

Your eyes to the rest of

Humanity spinning out of

Orbit, what can vanity do

When its spinning upside

Down without the ability

To respond?  The harum-scarum

Life that makes mtv’s true life,


How am I gonna write this

Poetry, will it be entwined

In redemption in my given

Section of freedom in this

World, will I weld the sword

And say that when vanity is

Asleep Heaven is awake,

Choose, your life at stake,

Whether or not you rake in

A million dollars a week,

My eyes will grow weary

And will seek to

Repair the nearsighted,

The victims of plaster,

For surely, our God

Puts together disaster

Ridden lives and the hardest

Heart like a million open

Ended knives peeling off

Each layer at a time,


I am the messenger,

No different then

These plastered county

Victims, I am just like

Them, so God,

Please Come!

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