The cost of living is too
high. Outside
abandoned gardens, buildings
that fill themselves
with products and
people daily – watch
as they transform into
upscale bars and sandwich
shops people can no longer afford
to sit in. Look
through windows as
mail carriers arrive. Just minutes
till the crickling begins; that is
the struggle of the
envelope—fighting, being forced
underneath doors, afraid
to burden families once more with
even more struggle. Mothers split
bills with pre-teen children, who
for their future are unable to
save because the rent has been
raised another sixty or so
within months. Outside
men stop to rest on benches
after a long night
of dragging carts loaded
with bottles and a
barely-decent pair of shoes,
jeans with just enough fabric to
prevent them from being arrested.
After a long day of rummaging
through trash cans, hitting every
corner, they nod
off, not expecting to be awakened
by the slamming of the doors on
a blue and white vehicle, that damn blue
and white vehicle, to be approached by
pistol-holding men who
do not understand that a job
is just too hard to find, a home
too expensive to keep.