The danger zone
lies west of
freely
doing nothing
south of
frankly
couldn’t give a shit
north of
what’s the difference
I’m just one of
east of
I’ve already
done my bit
The lethal lands lie
somewhere
in the contours
hidden
in the curves
of couldn’t care
buried
with all skeletal
intentions
hope
we never get to meet
each other there
Cold Fence by Thomas & Dianne Jones CC BY 2.0
the other side of barbed
holds new horizons
but tangled undergrowth
and fenceposts bar the way
stout boots, stout hearts,
a motorcycle
no fucker’s gonna block us
come what may
Written for Mindlovemiserysmenagerie Photo Challenge #94
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