A Round Town Full of Squares by Matthew Johnson
The next-door neighbor, a former classmate,
Slams his front door in a huff and a puff,
Stepping out into the world without a care of who’s watching;
He stumbles from the front lawn into the street,
Wobbling before the shine and glow
Of a flickering, main-street stoplight.
Lured by the sway of porch-talk complacency,
Since it’s all too comfortable,
His equilibrium is as lost as he is now,
And he staggers under the light that is always yellow,
Until he sinks to his knees,
To throw up on his dreams 𑁋
Matthew is a northern transplant living in NC and a MA graduate of UNC-Greensboro. A former journalist and editor who wrote for the USA Today College and The Daily Star (Oneonta, NY), his poetry has appeared in Maudlin House, The Roanoke Review, the Maryland Literary Review, New York Quarterly, and elsewhere. He's a Best of the Net Nominee and his debut collection, 'Shadow Folks and Soul Songs', (Kelsay Books) was released in 2019. @Matt_Johnson_D