Suburbia by Kevin Cadwallender

Brilliant metaphorical poem

I am not a silent poet

An individual has not started living

until he can rise above the narrow

confines of his individualistic concerns

to the broader concerns of all humanity.


                            – Martin Luther King, Jr.

In a garden in suburbia

a man puts a fence around

his garden, he likes to sit

in his garden and watch

the wheels turning on the

outside world.

his garden is roughly square

next door’s garden is an oblong.

all the gardens in the street

are different shapes, different

things happen in each garden.

a new family have moved in

they are different too, they knock

down all fences and take over other

people’s gardens, ruining the street.

the police stop responding to

your calls as they have more

important things to do.

the nice single parent from two doors

down has asked if she can pitch a tent

on your lawn and you agree to…

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