Here is an old poem I wrote. It was published in the UMASS Boston Watermark.
Allston
You’ve moved from home life,
Dormlife,
Adult life,
A self loathing sight.
A mattress
On the floor.
Doing what you’re told.
Hail Mary’s sold.
To a crooked cross of gold.
The wall flower wilts,
Banished with the white elephants.
Dreams of a parent’s infant.
Behind locked doors
A collection of marrow and ivory.
Rusted needles
In Christian steeples
Every night it’s you and a leather belt
Every night it’s less feelings felt
Told mommy and daddy you’d join the workforce
While their checks are a chemical melt
The yellow brick road
Leads to a rabbit
Hole.
A direct route
To an elephant graveyard.
This is Allston Rat City.
I just walked by The Model in Allston and I have no idea how people go to such places.
Where do I find girls to marry.
Diabetease
(via citizens connect graffiti reporting service)
#bostonstrong #solocupstrong
