Poems from May Thunder

May Thunder's picture
College student. Lives in the middle of nowhere. Probably won't be on very much. Good day.
An empty classroom, The buzz of a fly against the windowpane Overlooking bright wheat fields and dust and sky, The scent of musty carpet...
Dust cakes every wrinkle, Sticks to pitch-spots left By careless fingers roaming Over bark and wood. It blackens nails and toes, Clinging...
Have you ever been so tired That your bones all creak Like a tree's branches in a gale, Or gate hinges in the summertime? Have you ever...
oh, the wild winds wail the moon howls and the air stills what does a father do when his youngest asks for a flower?   the father comes...
A place of freedom, So they say. A place of free speech, of free education, But you have to sensor your words in public and pay for college...

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