“The past is concrete,
the future abstract,
but the present is most precious,
for it so quickly becomes the past.”–SLR
A cavalcade of freaks and weirdos;
meth-heads and potholes populate,
homeless and screaming preachers
stand on every corner.
City of bad news,
Hell on Earth.
Strange smells waft from the sugar beet plant,
as snowflakes blanket the grey town.
An isolated enclave—
a moose in every shop.
Meat and potatoes,
using group-think, mass hypnosis,
created temples of doom
in this mountainous place
of happy faces.