Southern Angst

It's a warm,

quiet 

day.

The sun

shines

through an

open

blind.

She sets

her

magazine

on her

lap

and sighs.

The breeze

from a

celling fan

blows across

her legs.

It's a warm,

quiet

day.

Nothing is

happening;

she wonders if

anything

ever will. 

Streets

We stand

on a front

porch;

we drink

and we

laugh.

A half moon

hangs

over the

roof

as cigarette smoke

mingles

with the

scent of

summer sweat.

My girlfriend

laughs;

she takes

a quick drag

off a cigarette.

Our youth

is a flickering

candle,

burning out

fast,

midnight

to

midnight.