Franklin Township is a cornfield,
sectioned off by housing divisions.
It is like a chocolate bar without the taste,
it’s the start of a broken relationship.
Franklin Township loves its money,
It asks and asks, but never gives. Air smells sweet
but tastes sour. It’s like bowling
without a ball. Birds fly south for the winter
and fly west for the summer,
to the stingy trees that line Franklin Township.
It’s a picture of a family
that flinched away from the camera,
too scared to show their faces.
A perfect family in every way,
except in their fear of love.