Villanelle

Urban types like to claim they know
It’s a cul-de-sac, dying, sad-face place,
But grass is green, homes are clean, neighbors wave hello.

Morbid teens desperately long to go
It’s killing me man, this too-safe place
Urban types like to claim they know.

Predictable writers imagine their prose
It lacks the raw nerve of the human race
But grass is green, homes are clean, neighbors wave hello.

Happy husbands drink beer slow
Far from the City and its rat race
Urban intellectuals just don’t know.

Content gardeners plant and sow
This is paradise, my Eden, this is grace
Grass is green, homes are clean, neighbors wave hello.

I’m suburbia, I’m an ordinary schmo
I love this peaceful, happy place
I hope urban types never know
Grass is green, homes are clean, neighbors wave hello.

-Job

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