A Cold Spring

"The pale curtains of the desert sun loom softly every dawn. Spring has arrived, bringing with it a heat eager to oppress.

It’s the same everywhere we go in this (insert writer's misleading and skewed adjective here) country. Same confused mixture of anger, sadness, and hope. Same matching black pools of the wild browbeaten, same bottled mistrust that could quench even this nation’s thirst. Caged, hellbent on survival if only to see you gone from their sight so they can focus this sensual wrath on something new. The only difference over here is that the poor aren’t afraid to openly cast it. Not jaded, like the homeless back home. Too vacant for that, and more hostile in intent. More like a junkie without the hallucinating hope for another fix.

When there’s nothing to lose, it’s easy to be honest.

The eyes tell all."
Kaboom

I think I saw this guy on TV. C-SPAN