Written by Guy J Jackson on Tuesday the 16th of February 2010
They hung a flag out their front porch. That way when the daughter sneaks home late she can at least give a salute. Sometimes the daughter'll talk to the gray boys in the cafeteria. The streets are oddly empty for this time of night. Whenever the first goes the second will follow. Lose your baby to a book. Nice to sit here in lamplight thinking about who might be out there, way out there in those far lights you see from your four-pane window, yeah, maybe some fella slinking along under red streetlamps giving notice to his feet to not shuffle so much.