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A City Without Fences
by Hezekiah Allen Taylor

seems damn inadequate
and almost too hopeful

that no neighbor's kid
will cut across the lawn,
no local dog will visit
with piling intentions

there's no division
of true privacy, no final act
of possession

"this may be yours,
it may be mine"

man was not created
for such candyland utopias
we desire the cold feel
of separation: wood,
hedge, chainlink

we must know, for sure,
both beginning and end

to not know
is certainly
the first inch into
something else entirely,
something disfiguring
and horribly ethereal

Francine's Version -- Hezekiah's Version -- Inspiration
Previous Poem -- Next Poem -- Table of Contents

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