This is the central myth of my new universe

Food that is not food
for all the border kids:
packaged and deluxe,
carried on trucks.

Sun that is not sunlight.
Loud that isn't heard.
Archives of empty.
Food that is not food.

The kids find nothing
poetic about border.
They stare at your letters
that are not letters.
posted by Adam at 6:14 PM [edit]