Upscale Neighborhood
by Robert Demaree


The streets we are speaking of
Lie within a zip code precious
To the meal-time callers who offer
Investment breakfasts, or days at
Gated golf clubs by the sea.
Down these arbored streets
Barrel young women in SUV's,
Cell phones in hand.
They may slow down for young men working.
On these streets, houses have been torn down,
And pick-up trucks arrive each morning:
Turrets rise, formal gardens are installed,
Lawns sprayed dead, to be overlaid
With fresh rolls of turf.
On the door of a portable toilet a radio hangs;
Songs in Spanish issue.
The listeners are far from home, and
The maids' bus doesn't run anymore.






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