Squaresville

Is like every town,
just check out all those
signs and billboards
when entering:

Cairo, Illinois (damn near a ghost town)
says: “Love It Or Leave It,” complete
with bullet holes.

“Welcome To John Birch Country,” the sign
was very old with a shotgun blast through the center.

An obvious political sign with a painting
of an enormous cock, stating “Our Leader.”

“Welcome To Rodeo Days,” pretty harmless.

“Food, Gas, And Lodging,” the usual sight
near highway exits.

God how I hate seeing endless lists of repetitive shit,
and being reminded of how fucked we’ve become,
and this was the America that haunted
my dreams as a child; desolate and senseless:

“Now go back to bed little fuckface,
it was just a nightmare; we didn’t lose the farm,
and no, you can’t have a nightlight.”

It’s a bastard when you are nine years old,
and the old man tells you there’s a hell
of a lot worse things than a boogeyman
as he turns out the light.

Richard D. Houff is originally from Austin, Minnesota, and currently lives and writes out of St. Paul, Minnesota. He has had poetry and prose published in Abby, Brooklyn Review, Chiron Review, Conduit, Hudson Valley Writers Guild, Louisiana Review, Midwest Quarterly, North American Review, Osiris, Rattle, Trailer Park Quarterly, and many other fine magazines. His most recent collections are Little Histories (short stories), and Sidewalk Noir (poems), from Anvil Publications.