Ashe To Snow Poem by David Nelson Bradsher

I drive up Ashe, past rows of shotgun shacks
that were erected thirty years ago
as subsidized apartments for the poor;
but now the rich want condos down to Snow,
so poor Caucasians, Mexicans, and Blacks
all have eviction papers on their doors
allotting thirty days to pack and go.

The dozers roar to life the first of June,
a grim endeavor in a dark affair,
destroying roots to sow the 'public good'
so land developers can then declare,
'We'll have attractive downtown housing soon, '
as windowed steel replaces shanty wood
to shine like diamonds in elitist air.