an egalitarian moment

•

a Sunday drive past

the power
lines and ribbons
of freeway
out to the

farmless
show-and-tell barns
attached to
subdivisions
of chimneys and
gables and brick
where the
over-sized houses

are only slight
variations of
a perpetual theme.

the Chevrolet
misfires and
stalls and fires
again as his son

sits in his
carseat eating
French fries
and asks
if they could
move someday?
and he doesn't
know how to
tell his son that,

tire salesmen
and their children

will probably
never live in a
place like this
and he scans
the rows of
houses like
so many teeth
perfect and white.

no sign of
democracy

anywhere.