(photo by me)

Friday
Fri-i-day
at the bus stop in the rain
a tall can of beer remains

emp-ty

unlov-ed

cigarette butts on the grass
as if thrown at the can

such vio-lence

Genesee
oh, Genesee
how they mistreat
you
at least the flowers
don’t abuse
you

You’re still standing tall
from winter to fall
no matter how bad
you taste

Genesee
oh, Genesee

This poem sucks.