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Adios Suburbs, Hola Suburbs

Rating: 3.8

The suburb of white bread is dead.
It sits lonely in the dusty trophy case
We pass it by and never read the tarnished plaque.
with its faded Leave It To Beaver graffiti,
as our blocks are now spiced
with Sikhs, Serbs, and Salvadorans.
Oh, the old chemical lawns
and dismal architecture are still here.
But so is Beef Biriani, mafé, and
the smells of continents.

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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Chuck Audette 08 November 2007

A diet of white bread was never very healthy for the soul, anyway. -chuck

0 0 Reply
Michael Shepherd 06 July 2007

Adios ennui - hola Miguelito!

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