The awful homes of America!
How terrible they yawn,
Each with a single yearling tree
Amidst a standard lawn!
One deer across the green may flee
From SUVs and yapping dogs.
But still oppression chokes me
like the smell of a thousand hogs.
The bland homes of America!
Through their great rooms by night:
How many different screens blare
With contant noise and light!
There pizza, Pop-Tarts and trash
Pile on the kitchen island --
Unless constant outlays of cash
Keep the situation in hand.
The blessèd homes of America!
Multiple crosses on the wall
To prove one's holiness
To lover, children, and all.
Actions mean nothing when
There are goods to display;
Like all things, buy again,
And again -- what the hey.
The McMansions of America!
By millions on her fill dirt,
In the desert, in the suburbs,
On the sands, they cause hurt
As families overreach and overspend.
From the ad world's image
They simply cannot bend
Even when finances hemm'rage.
The underwater homes of America!
Long, long, over-priced!
May reality sink in before
Another bubble -- another heist!
And may value instead be found
In things not bought,
Where daily reporters do not hound,
"What hath the market wrought?"