Mixed TruthsA Poem by Kenneth The Poet
Living in thirty-nine,
south of forty-nine, feeling three times as unlucky, less than seven times as lucky. The mother b***h couldn't stop her whimpering and hormonal outbursts enough to allow a young couple the chance to escape their doldrums. And the tears she wept left an unprotected basement floor bathed in a layer of sickness. And the pair of exhausted selves slaved away to return their home's lower level to some semblance of normalcy. And luck managed to be on their side as they made it to Morton County. Along the way, the husband sees a cratered landscape cover in a fluid foreign to the lunar landscape. It never ends, he says to himself as they dodge overflow near a place where the name bears no resemblance to the landscape, where the springs are not clear as crystal. The next day, they drove further west to the place named after the Marquis De Mores' lovely wife, the point about mixed truths came to fullest fruition. The Queen of the West asserted the fact that Dakota means friend in the same language that Tatanka means bison. The twenty-sixth president, the one that was twice as unlucky as anybody else, screamed BULLY whenever he rode on a horse, he charged up a hill, he flew in a plane, or he built a canal. Apparently thirty-nine, south of forty-nine, isn't the hole of desolation that some minds think it is. Mixed truths, need more be said. © 2011 Kenneth The PoetReviews
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4 Reviews Added on August 6, 2011 Last Updated on August 6, 2011 AuthorKenneth The PoetBismarck, NDAboutKenneth The Poet is an optimist wrapped in the candy shell of moroseness and cynicism. He lives between the two parallels marked 46 and 49, all while living in the state marked 39. He pretends that he.. more.. |

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