Copper coins
strewn about
the suburban street defying
the sun
Like good ideas
abandoned
like
development projects announced
Sent into the air
like Chinese
lanterns floating into the wealth of the
Unknown
like unfinished mansions on
coveted
hillsides
Fuck that the smart
money's now on high-rise
homes
with pools on the
roof
so the newly-minted
middle class can
fee like the
Riche
of eons ago
like young men pinning
their
fortunes on a
squeegee and an
old soda bottle laden with
suds
and stolen
water
the poor man's
recycling
In truth
the street
people
have known the three
Rs
long before
the Greens sought
to codify it
What appeared as
epiphany
to academics
they learned
through
hardship
and
starvation
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