I want something for nothing!
Because the spirit of bum has got all over me.
I'm tired of livin somewhere between
The American dream and the American nightmare.
I don't even want to work for food!

But all these Bradford Pear Trees produce here
In the Chase Bank parking lot is leaves,
Inedible ones, I'm sure,
And the non-bearing mulberries stain  my point of view.
Nothing grows on my street except crabapples,
And nothin or no one tries to digest those
Until they ferment long enough
That a few reprobate squirrels decide
To get together and run along the fence intoxicated.

So smile, orphans, and be very happy,
To live in the mundane migrations
Where real food still grows.
And have no fear,
You will never have to strain your brain
Over a catchy sign
Designed to harvest spare change
From the good people who drive up and down Western Avenue
In their towncars.

-jenn