The Trailer Park
Anyway...
It's a different type of park than I'm used to seeing. Here at home our road is dirt and the ruts fill up with rainwater and oil. Here, the moss is king and mildew stains every last piece of plastic furniture left outside. We do have room for carports and wading pools though.
Our friends Earl and Heather who live next door have even made a little bar-b-que pit out of some old bricks that used to be the Burton boarding house's chimney. It burnt down in the 70's and I guess Earl just kept hauling them around everywhere they went until Heather got fed up and told him she was gonna dump them in the river the next time they moved. Nice couple, those two. Let us use it now and again when the weather's right.
When I dream a heaven, it's not that different from my everyday. I don't usually stumble till I see a picture like the one above. It's then that Heaven ain't right necessarily and all my visions of truth and beauty are neither. I'm left staring past a sink full of dirty dishes out into an evening, dull gray as a seagull eye.

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