Liberty in Suburbia
This evening’s blushing gold. The gates swish shut.
She scans the empty street, the Stars and Stripes
at every porch, turns to the giant screen.
Permits herself a smile. The dogs are out.
Somewhere out there, a tide is in suspense.
Nothing is happening. All the shops are closed.
The family is inside, the blinds pulled down.
Everything is still, and in its place.
Suburbs settle themselves in the last light.
Couples turn up the heating, pour a Coke
or beer, and raid the fridge. The TV tonight
is carnage, carnage. The mother hugs
her son, lays out his freshly laundered kit,
praises her daughter’s homework, loads her gun.
Julian Dobson lives in Sheffield, England, home of the famous Henderson’s Relish. His poems have appeared in publications including Brittle Star, The Interpreters’ House and Acumen, and on a bus in Guernsey. More of his work is at 52poemsinayear.wordpress.com