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In a windblown world

against the curb where shed leaves and debris gather

passively and silently

watching from the fringes of life

anonymously and invisibly

the searcher stands camouflaged

on the concrete corner of concern

Pretty plastic people

strut by staring at their electronic messiah

trance like, luminescence reflected

onto pale skin, saucer eyes

engrossed and impressed with their imaginary

friends typing words of little preponderance

yet with an expressive urgency and belief they

are the center of the universe.

NL 28Dec14


United Kingdom
  • *Published 24Jan15 Portsmouth Herald

About the creator

Nelson Linscott

Maine born and raised, a product of the 1960's, liberal thinker, writer, photographer, poet, book collector, fountain pen enthusiast, amateur historian, reader, Beat Generation Follower, cancer...