McLife

Veracious suburbia,
swallowing all the real,
Reaching forward into their sleek, polished oblivion.
The unnatural expanding outwards,
Expelling steaming tar /yellow florescence
from its churning anis.
chemical boxes
on their chemical lawns
with the power of Pine sol
so close to nature,
you can almost taste it!
Burning your eyes, nose and tongue,
“Smoky wouldn’t like it,
 he hates everything!”