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 weeds & 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 weeds are gone. and so is she. rich folks choke on billowing smoke. and i found a new hill.