Tonight's Poet Corner: Our Hometown

Our Hometown
by Belinda Roddie

the house by the 5th and A intersection
used to be a mental institute. if you
walk by, you can smell
weed, urine, and silent screams. a
cage is just a gate that
bars you from heaven, and
wooden instruments save more lives
than metal ones do.
we all look suspiciously young,
redheaded, and nosy. We're
loud and we eat crackers
in between meals. and if
one of us ever became
president of the United States,
you can bet he would say,
"that old house should be turned
into a pizza place."

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