They approached the front porch hesitantly, passing between two blooming Rose of Sharon bushes with red flowers. A new place, strange to him, with dust specks dancing in the rays of the sun that flickered through the trembling chinaberry leaves down onto the weather-beaten wooden flooring. Everything had been painted at one time. Now just flecks still clung desperately to the surface of the porch walls and the floor while...
The Lost Generation By Captain Midnight In the style of Gertrude Stein A prose-poem on what our generation faces as compared to the generation of the Jazz Age and beyond. You are part of a lost generation. By shuffling you round and round and round and round The powers that be have stripped you of much of your identity. By giving you standardized tests the powers that be devise Row upon row Of square pegs in round holes t...
