You can keep your country
and your dewy blades of evening grass,
your twinkling porch lamp spider webs,
your noonday napping cats and dirt paths.
You can keep your safety
and your mail men in safari shorts,
your frozen, ready to serve, apple pies,
your fireside ciders, sherry's and ports.
You can keep your orchards
and your four mile walk to the grocer's,
your twenty minute drive for a drop of gas,
your Sunday shuttered liquor stores.
You can keep your church
and your senselessly looping streets,
your door to door fundraising children,
your tidy lawns and meet and greets.
You can keep your notions
and your dreams of a little prairie house,
but I am finished living with retirees
and the rest of the bible belt south.
