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Hello, How Are You?

Rating: 3.5

this fear of being what they are:
dead.

at least they are not out on the street, they
are careful to stay indoors, those
pasty mad who sit alone before their tv sets,
their lives full of canned, mutilated laughter.

their ideal neighborhood
of parked cars

of little green lawns
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Joan Forbush 06 April 2008

true. and no one sees that they are trapped. they think they have everything. thing...that's the problem. their souls have been sucked out and they are trying to fill the empty place with things. impossible dream. can they dream having no souls?

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