American Mordor: A Workplace Poem

If there is a place

Where Depression has a location,

A place saturated with its energies,

As some places are said to be Holy Ground,

As some places are said to be Sour Ground,

As some places are said to be haunted,

And some places are said to be forever wild,

Then surely that place is Newark, New Jersey.

Unless that place is Secaucus.

The land I ride through

As I take the NJ Transit Northeast Corridor Line

Is an American Mordor.

Just some free verse on a Friday morning.

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