The Breeding Ground of Misanthropy

Front Range
Colorado’s changed
No longer the cow town and slow cities of my youth
Where monarch butterflies still migrated through, and life
Was slow enough to breathe.

You have become a coast city now, your beaches
The sandstone piedmont of the once purple Rockies
A cloud of nitrogen now smogs my view, and
Although the sunsets are vivid it pales to John
Denver’s fire in the sky.

I feel you tainted
With hurry and bustle, the
Bloodline to our ski towns clogged
With dis ease
And economic need
With ego and noise, distraction from pain

Clogged are my towns with booze, meth,
Cocaine, ever hiding from the activism we
Proclaim
From the top of the Flatirons, we scream
Our greed
Our Front Range is nothing more than the western
Most East Coast!

Filled with the hurried and angered soccer moms
The onorexics and yoga divas
The self – the self – perpetuating its fear
My West is no more, its peace is all gone

Along with the starlight
The silent night
Replaced with the Hummmmmmmming of power lines
The bright L.E.D. lights,
Blinding our vision from destiny to fright.