we circle a ball of fire
that floats in empty space,
slowly self-immolating,
though we speak every day
as though it’s that sacrificial star
rising up over us from the east.
in kansas city that means
that the east side burns first
(which is how kansas city likes it)
though only a few minutes later
the south ignites in a golden glory
followed immediately thereafter
by an ever-expanding, inflamed west
while the north laughs until it, too,
realizes it cannot contain the conflagration.
point being: all flesh burns equal.
just ask the witches you’ve accused.
One thought on “2,713,406 Signs You Grew Up In Kansas City”
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Gosh! I miss reading you Jason. This poem of yours is gold!
Happy New Year my friend. 🙂 2017