By Luke Young

Lilacs hang over the backyard fence
The result of a bush turned tree
Neglected by human hands
Usually prone to pruning
Clipping and trimming –
It’s natural tendency subverted 
Into a man made replica
Our society believes more advanced
Breathing civilization
Like a collapsed lung

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Luke Young is a writer, bibliophile, proletarian and factotum. He is of mixed Indigenous and European American heritage. He grew up among Southeast Asian war refugees in Washington and California before moving to Cambodia and Southeast Asia with his parents as a child. He lived overseas for more than twenty years before relocating back to the United States in the autumn of 2017 with his wife and four children. His next collection of poetry is coming from Between Shadows Press.

By Luke Young

We live among you
Teach your children
Drive your buses and taxis
Bag your groceries
Pry plaque off your teeth
Deliver your mail
Cook your food
Bandage your wounds
Haul away trash
All while hiding 
That thing inside
With bright smiles
Toothy grins and well placed humor

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Luke Young is a writer, bibliophile, proletarian and factotum. He is of mixed Indigenous and European American heritage. He grew up among Southeast Asian war refugees in Washington and California before moving to Cambodia and Southeast Asia with his parents as a child. He lived overseas for more than twenty years before relocating back to the United States in the autumn of 2017 with his wife and four children. His next collection of poetry is coming from Between Shadows Press.