Past The Silo
past the silo cattle’s corralled for slaughter, screams savage the serene as a young girl unfurls her dreams onto the floor of a trailer park store, she has one dollar, she can buy gum or choose to run, her future – hung in the family abattoir, her young skin butchered by a belt buckle, she swallows the hurt, her mother, a chain-smoking gas station clerk uses her staff discount to buy Lucky Strike cigarettes in bulk, she furiously smokes whilst taking an occasional Toke on her crackpipe, she spends her nights feverishly munching bags of Bugles , glued to dull infomercials promising to “sell you a dream, or your money back” she’s too in love with her crack to make the call, it’s either ‘her junk’ or nothing at all, there’s no time like the present to ditch this shit ridden desert for some prime real estate but it’s far too...
