This isn’t the first time
I’ve seen residential America
With its shingled roofs
A/C vents, garage doors,
skateboards, scooters,
golden arches, and a
a garland of grey smog
ringing the edge of the
Horizon like a scar.
I will
once again
feel for all
the stories out there
the men and women working
their shit jobs
the burger joints
hawking double patties
and fries
with or without cheese
to simulate choice
To people who just
want to sustain themselves
long enough to reach
and bed and sleep
The zombie-like children
riding their bikes
Through the angry traffic
their entire childhood
nothing so much
as a litany
of near misses,
whether on the road
or behind the closed
doors of their suffocating
greenbelts.
And there it all is again
this morning--
An SUV pulling into a
palm-treed driveway
a straw-hatted gardener
using his leaf-blower
to clear away
the angst of the existential
debris
A teenager looking out
a bedroom window
wondering when will life
begin
blissfully unaware
that, in fact,
it already has
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