parks and industry

i was stuck in traffic on a boulevard

stopped between a transfer station

(that's a nice word for a waste separation shed)

and some generic office crap encased

in standard landscaping/parking scheme,

i saw a woman with a fox terrier

the leash gripped and tightly wrapped

around her hand, the dog tense

and straining eye to eye

with a peacock, staring at

each other between parked cars

a horizontal gobble

of low rise, tilt-up

buildings with

tinted mirrored windows

or none at all they sprawl,

asphalt edged

with hedges and sturdy turf

watered and cut and poisoned

on a regular schedule

of automated systems

and migrant labor

blind facades and

bland enterprises

hiding secrets or banalities:

storage units masked as condos

or private security services

that look the same

as dentist's offices

there was one that lurked

for years, meekly presenting

the face of a luggage factory

that also happened to make

parts for missile systems

oh, sleek county!

pioneer of crystals

organic foods and mountain bikes,

aromatherapy and home 'o the grateful dead

speaking of which: -death row's still here,

with no intention to leave

yet redwoods tower over creeks

-the ones that escaped the saw,

shading the streams, enabling

hand-counted salmon censuses confirming

that they have established a small return