by Karl Kadie
The sun rises between two large dogs
loping angrily across the Baylands,
heads down, nosing through the ruins
of Silcon Valley.
Above, resting on the sun's shoulder,
is the still-visible moon,
a faint reminder of the big picture,
the community from which we came.
How well did our community plan?
Twenty years ago this was an industrial park,
pumping out world-changing technology,
drawing revenue from a seemingly endless tap.
Today we grab part-time work where we can get it
as a circuit designer or manufacturing analyst,
and a few weeks later
scavenge for sustenance,
prowling through the dumpsters
for something we can sell or trade,
arms sometmes scraping the bottom
of this long, economic chain.
Many talk of moving to China
the land of opportunity,
but I am older, weary of false promises,
and…someone has to tell this history.
How well did we plan?
Just look at us: cowering
behind the rocks and shacks,
waiting for the big dogs of capitalism
to pass.
Karl Kadie holds an MA in English from San Francisco State University and is a native Californian. He has been writing poetry for over thirty years, and published poems in Haiku Headlines, The New Verse News, and on poetry blogs. His poems reflect a powerful concern about the political events of the new century. Karl earns his living by providing marketing for high technology companies in the United States and Europe.
