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Unmarked Graves

desert byways

shoulders hold
shredded rubber
as death

beyond the berm,
"nothing", they say

I know better

deep in the hole
hope folds
like a busted flush

sorry, pal

end of the ride

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
I may have used this title befor. Can't seem to locate it. It's probably on the old site (pre-crash) so it doesn't matter anyway.
Editing stage: 


Not real keen on the title. I think you can and should do better. The poem deserves it. outside of perhaps a little back story, not much more required here.


thanks for your thoughts

the title? I can do different, not sure about better tho'
give me a hint.


author comment

Not a good place to go for a ride, sounds like the mobs playground..
Good write though I think you can make more of the scene, explode it with the odd corpse, but I may have the wrong stretch of road lol
Take care, Yours Ian.T
Question:- I have a postcard here that was posted in 1902 to a place called Auburndale have you any Idea where that is, maybe it is in Massachusetts..
It was posted on March the 17th 1902 here in the UK arrived there on April 1st just can't imagine how that could be in those days, that's as fast as the post today lol????

There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

you are not on the wrong stretch of road.
I got enough in this for you to get the gist, although you, and scott are right about it needing a little more.

I'll think on it!

Auburndale, mass. is about 150 miles south east of me (as the crow flies)
that''s all I got!
Google it, It will tell you everything you need to know



author comment

Just throwing some ideas around based on how the poem read to me,

easy rider, cenotaph, carving, SQUID,

hope these help


I remember the home bred beast
purring down the road
america sliding by
without a wave or goodbye
going on and on

"Kansas city" song thudding
from the speakers
the hot summer air
gushing in
through the late eighties
pop open windows

driving down through the cliffs
near the snake river canyon
the sprinklers and park ranger
lady in her hat

Our sandwichs moisture
in streams as we held them
on the ledge of the scalding down
wicking away...the rad
gauge dropping on the long
grade...rising on the climb
back from the tourist station..

At night the FM radio late eighties
free....not like now..

This too is a testemant to the
ideals of America the might fighting
for freedom on foriegn soils
"Beyond the berm nothing"

meaning there is no need beyond
the perameters given to know
everything for a good strike done
by air and surveillance
the hand to hand and armour
battles still required
the trenchs
the positions one holds by
values and morality
and ideals

I remember reading On The Road
and how vivid and wilderness the
American Dream seemed then

Kennedy still climbing and Marylin
still making movies
equality a distant star waiting to
blossom and explode like the
war in the asian jungles

I was lucky as a young man to take
that journey then and feel the great
breadth and width of the land

This poem makes me remember
some of the portent things I saw
as we drove...some of the discussions
I had with everyone at the rest stations
the parks and resturants along the

Thank You!

From the first pioneers, through civil wars, world wars etc. How often has America come of the track, over the berm so to speak, and returned, not everyone alas, Amazing poetry. Regards Roscoe...

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

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