genesis 2018 final digital.pdf


Greenwood
Ethan Marley

Greenwood stands in front of  its shabby house, 
bragging about the paint job and smoking 

with a steaming cup of  joe down your shirt.
Tumbleweeds of  cigarettes blow by kids playing with

like bored road rabbits, bending the rims 
of  bent frames. 

Greenwood laughs at the kids with rings in their noses, 

hotels a town over in early March. Condemned houses fold over
themselves like old men collapsing into recliners.
The malls reek of  fried food, the fast foods joints of  cheap cologne. 

gunshots ring out, celebrating another day of  survival.
Greenwood just bought a new pontoon and dropped

It shakes you to sleep and rocks you awake, pulls up an eyelid just
to make sure you didn’t get enough rest. Greenwood takes up 
two parking spots with its pickup, whose vanity plate reads

It settles fender benders with handshakes

Greenwood believes that Power to the People