my house is burning down
and my mother tells me to wash the dishes,
ma, i dont think the flames will want dinner,
she waves me off,
everyone needs dinner,
she insists.
and i guess shes right-
i've always needed dinner,
and i guess this is no different.
she tells me to pack my math book,
since i have algebra tuesday.
and so i'll bring my school bag,
and look death in the eyes once more,
he shakes hands with my mom, and tells her
it was nice doing business with you.
i watch my mom drive over the hill,
and i sit with my horses, and
we will eat dinner with the fire.
YOU ARE READING
an idiots guide to life; how to survive the badlands of wyoming
Poetrythe slightly deranged ramblings of a teenage trans guy living in wyoming there's no overarching theme but there sure is a lot of dogs, horses, and god(s) . i do not know what i am talking about 97% of the time mostly posted chronologically in order...
