My Hill

When I was a young boy,

I went up to a hill

And looked on to a spot that

A parking lot would fill.

I knew I would have no say

In whether it was done.

I looked on that spot and

I wish I had a gun.

When I was older

I took her to my hill.

The shopping mart security

Couldn't find us there.

It gave us a big thrill.

Long ago, the family farm

Would've hidden us from the stars,

But yellow ****s & garbage heaps,

Hid us from the cars.

Now I sit on my hill,

In a basement floor machine.

Rich folks laugh,

While the furnace burns,

And this condo sits on me.

Can't see any blackbirds,

Can't see any clouds,

The ****s are gone...

And so is she.

Rich folks choke on billowing smoke.

And I found a new hill.