by Scot Siegel
Once, there was an urban planner who wrote zoning codes for a living
Only to break them over the dais. He lost his mind
But they trusted him anyway. And the town soon outgrew its limits
Fueled by federal highway subsidies, sub-prime mortgages
And cheap gasoline. Yes, the developers were happy. And
The Baby Boomers, too – they were all one in the same really –
New maps supplanted old maps, the mayor got re-elected. And
Earth Day became a quaint memory along with Watergate –
Now on every corner of what fails to mimic a proper downtown, citizens sip
Formaldehyde lattes, nibble woodchip scones and gulp bottled water
From factories in Cleveland posing as factories in France; and they relish
Hormone-infused gorgonzola over baby greens, and those all-too-crimson
Genetically engineered tomatoes from the hydroponic industrial zones
Between Sacramento and Buenos Aires – and the planner got a raise . . .
Scot Siegel is an urban planner and poet from Lake Oswego, Oregon, where he serves on the Lake Oswego City Planning Commission and Board of Trustees for the Friends of William Stafford. His poetry has previously appeared on The New Verse News, The Oregonian, Open Spaces, and Red River Review, among others.
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