State of the Union
White-tailed deer, and bears
How many are out there
On shoulders of highways
Shredded to pieces by cars
Dead birds litter boulevards
Rich folks are leaving the city
in droves
Abandoning furniture,
hardly-worn clothes
The thrift shops are full
As far as I can tell
The bakeries are doing well
Seeds sprinkle still
From hardened, grey flowers
And grow, or may
A jacket discolored from acid rain
A trio plays
Cards in the park
On a box
Their green glass and clear
Plastic bottle filled carts
Encircle them like camels
As we stand on the grass
And wait, and watch
the Space Station pass
As wires twitch and pipes
Leak gas
The buildings are time bombs
Kaboom!
The continent, too
