Red And Green

In the rough and tumbled
road rash we have made
of this country, all we do 
leaves a mark.  

Inside, we’re
shining in red and green: 
home to the spirits
of blood and money. 

Our hides? Mostly scar tissue,
mostly from how those spirits
bang us around
for as long as we live, 

partly from how
we bang against each other
by accident or intention,
seeking comfort so clumsily.

It’s not easy being here.
Not that it’s easy being anywhere
but we claim so much for this place
that really it ought not to kill us

just for being here.

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About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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