Look Ma, I'm a Writer!

In the Far-Flung District

The little children stood
lined up by the side
of the dirt road
outside their school,
most in slippers, some barefoot.
Then the teachers signalled
for the kids to start waving
the little flags they made,
crayon colours on
scratch paper stuck
on barbecue sticks,
to welcome the guest as he
approached the assembled
students in his gigantic SUV.
When the vehicle
came to a complete
stop, one of the 
heavily-tinted windows rolled down,
and out peered a fat old man in
heavily-tinted sunglasses.
"Good morning, congressman!"
the children exclaimed.
The old man just looked at them,
and after realising they weren't
old enough to vote, he muttered
a gruff acknowledgment. 
Then he rolled his window back up,
and his SUV sped away,
the huge wheels stirring up
a heavy cloud of dust,
forcing the kids to
cover their faces as they
watched the vehicle
disappear in the distance.


circa 2017


My Literary Side

"The Words come from the Divine; from the Muse the Idea. The Poet merely transcribes." ┼Old Sumerian proverb

(Kidding, I made that up. LOL)

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