Sod Busting

Anxious about leaving
But still anxious if I stay
Look for a job
Here, or there
Not my home,
The old mill town.
“There” seems to be
The latest sprawling field
Of mushrooming free markets,
A random highway interchange
Yields urban flight from taxes
That plow under the harvest.
A glassy office park is blooming
And $250,000 row houses
Sprout like fertilized corn.
Shade trees, cut, shoved aside
By hired yellow bulldozers
Instead, dual A/C units.
The lawns, luxurious green
Tranquil suburban bliss.
The 401(k) retirement plan
A tidy lawn ornament
Like bright marigolds
on a cemetery plot.