I believe a segment of my generation thought they solved this problem by creating housing tracts painted Beige. It did little more than intensify angry little cars bleating at each other on weekday mornings. This led to some confusion as to where I did or didn't belong, so I drove my '71 VW Bus home. Next day, I called in "old". That was 9 years ago. Perhaps I am a crow.
It's best not to get me started on the whole housing fraud industry and the way we were sold an american dream that involves life long debt to banks. Thus, life in suburbia. the rest of the folks were channeled into the inner city for all sorts of other nefarious purposes.Sorry, George ... you can take the girl out of the '60's but ... :)Anyhoo, thanks for reading and commenting. Calling in "old." Yeah, you just know when that time has arrived. I think being a crow is a very good thing.
Many interpretations of this one! Pondering. :)Love the artwork.
I think possible interpretations, depending on the reader, are vital to poetry. Sometimes, the poems know more than I do ... :)
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