Everything’s bigger in


the PLACES are bigger,

[golden arches towering over you, smell of grease lingers in your nose]

the PEOPLE are bigger,

[waistlines rampantly expand, result of said golden arch]

the CARS are bigger,

[trucks, trucks everywhere, even normal-sized trucks have eight wheels]

the PATRIOTISM is bigger,

[t-shirt: “the GOVERNMENT didn’t build this city, the VETERANS did”]

the GUNS are bigger

[bumper sticker: “if the government outlaws guns, I become an outlaw”]

the BIGOTRY’s bigger,

[bumper sticker: “Trump THAT, Bitch! Make America Great Again!”]

Come on

[read: “come on…”]

down to


[read: a breath of air to prepare you for the inevitable]



A million million tracks of land

Sold to the highest bidder

A house on each plot, a street running through them

A smiling face—man, woman, child


A vagabond with his baby hunched over a bundle of blankets

Snot running down his nose



A pool in the back, a fence and a hot tub

A deck and a trampoline, hedges, some trees


A dumpster, a trash can tipped half over

A cat prowling around the trash

This is home.


The man yells at the woman

The woman yells at the child

Their porcelain smiles fall away


The vagabond gives a quick kiss to his baby

Looks up in the sky

And wonders about the more fortunate


love drug

Today was 420

But instead of getting high

I took a hit of

The love drug.

Legal drug, universally recognized as

medicine for depression

and low-self esteem.


a cure for ails.

Instead consuming

We eat one another

Instead of using

We use each other

Instead of friends

We become lovers

And lie to our father’s and mothers