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Obtaining Suburbia

By A.B. Samien

Mom cried out,"But It's you I love!"
while dad punched holes in the walls,
like periods on his angry silent sentences,
then left,
to sleep at the office again.

I remember-
"don't tell your sisters,
but someone was shot up the street."
Dad bolts the door and hides the front page.
I was 9.

Now they leave the garage wide open,
even when they go out,
the doors unlocked,
because things are different in Pennsylvania.

They live in a circle
where everyone knows everyone's name
and everyone's car,
and everyone's dog,
only under the shade of a nuclear reactor,

"it's much better than coal!"
said the man on the radio.

But there are certain problems with both.

Testing...

testing...1...2...{looping feedback squeal, that kind that makes everyone grimace, or say, "Aaahhhh!"}
[the handsome man on stage adjusts his mic, while the tec lowers the treble]
ahem- hello, and good evening! I see we have a full house tonight...

[he isn't phased a bit]

I'll be posting various writings on this page daily. My intention is to use this blog as a tool to improve both the quality and frequency of my writing. If anyone reads this- great. If not, you'll be reading my books a few years down the road anyway-- and they won't be free, he heh. So off to where we go? Not even I do know!

[Applause]
[curtain]