McMansions

FRANWATSON

For years, the trees crept in on me.
Then Mcmansions bloomed
Heat consuming, barn sized things
With way too many rooms.

And each of them laid waste the land,
Consumed the creeks and trees
Till all the hills are cold and bare
And birds and bunnies freeze.

There is a justice, though, sometimes.
Seems now they are foreclosed,
They tumble daily back to dust
For mortgages still owed.

Urban Poet

We have them here.
They tucked a few along the slope
beside the highway.

So now the trucks spew fumes
into their yards, frustrating hope
as children play.

There is no reason to be of good cheer
when wealth brings bling to such a dope
to place his family as pollution's prey.

We drive the trees to their knees
and bushes blush to see the flowers fade
but that is mere hyperbole
compared to what they do to you and me.

Save the planet! Leave a space
for the hapless human race.