Topeka Maginot

martin.strange
Poets Unlimited
Published in
1 min readMay 14, 2016

The lolling hills, tongues wagging,
like a dog out a window, Kansas flies by —
windfarms hover in close encounters,
Colorado on the horizon.

Some Topeka Maginot,
Rubles in a peasant’s basket, matchsticks!
Matchsticks! The fourth Fusilier
abandons its high ground.

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martin.strange
Poets Unlimited

Born in the peachtree wilds, passing through lands east and west, martin settled on a nutmeg plantation to live out his days contemplating the mysteries of life