Oboes / by Reckon

their decay and occupation really had you down,

had you really clinging to it like a clown

as in sticking to it like a stamp (sad)

the american light, language, rights you should've had

I tried substitutes but them poems know the real meanings

I left some for you in a room in another meeting

I am happy to report they are confined by neither skin nor log nor ivy league porch or ceiling

I am happy to report they fear no quarter nor mortar and much nor mud nor sheetrock border lynchings

I am happy to report there is nothing worse than a whiny clock and much better nor worse a holy order bitching

and by the way these maps do bear a torch and handmade stitching

and very often may offer every tiny garden windoway the heart pin pinching

They are simple and short.  They say you are here, and you are.