Hometown
The place where I lived,
not where I was born...
With blue skies and
high rocky mountains,
covered in fresh powder for the
coming seasons.
I lived in you, hidden,
my hometown not well known
to others, but well known to me...

Father
didn't like his
blueish gray pickup truck
stalling on the highway
halfway home with it's
large dents and the
chipped off paint,
dashboard dented from the impact
of your skull that night...

God
hates the way
we see things in colour...
Red skies in the morning,
blue in the afternoon,
pink in the evening...

Memories
from all the days,
when you used to believe
in the size 12 font
in a shiny gold book
from June till September

Nothing
seemed to matter,
life was good,
blue balls bouncing on gray charcoal...
and we get taken back
to our hometown