Beverly Hills

As I walked through sad and showy opulence

Comfort lined cocoons on wheels went rushing by

Clean and manicured and gated wealth

Cried out, “Help me, set me free from beauty, uniformity.”

Outward facades whose value goes unquestioned

Orderly trees, magnificently standing guard

Shading so considerately, testified to inherent lies.

“We’re trapped,” they said,

“In disfigured symmetry imposed

On us who have no voice.”

I wanted to apologize for the abuse,

And thank them for not giving up on us.