Double-Dead-End Street

there's a double dead end street
in the town where I was raised
the citizens walk up and down
seemingly unfazed

there's a beggar on each corner
and a cop every mile or two
and they both know the roles they play
the mayor tells them what to do

there's a problem with addiction
and no needle exchange
makes you wonder where it comes from
and if it will ever change

i don't have any answers
I live here just like them
this town will let you pour it out
and it won't ever say when

the river's pretty clean these days
there's no three-eyed fish
thoreau and his older brother
spent several weeks on it

and during election time
the hotels make their cut
they fill up with politicians
trying to snatch the electorate up

they pose for pictures in diners
and shake hands with average folks
who if they weren't running for office
they probably would have never spoke

the twenty-somethings want to get out
and go to L.A. or New York
but in a few years they return home
and get right back to work

hitting that double-dead-end street
on nearly any given night
helping the bars pay their rent
trying to get that buzz on tight

it's the biggest little city
in one of the smallest, boldest states
live free or die
on all the license plates

we're known to the rest of the country
if they even know us at all
as that little speck, up near Maine
with the pretty leaves in fall

© 2016 Tristan Omand