Small town losers, too bored to farm,
Drive down dirt roads to convene
At the gas station and mini-mart,
Where they posture and preen,
Full of opioid bluster and
Country meth-amphetamine...
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Random Rhymes From An Expat Living A Long Way From Home
Image by Mark Harm Niemeyer
Far Out (By Philip Larkin)
Beyond the bright cartoons
Are darker spaces where
Small cloudy nests of stars
Seem to float on the air.
These have no proper names:
Men out alone at night
Never look up at them
For guidance or delight.
For such evasive dust
Can make so little clear:
Much less is known than not,
More far than near.
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