The mayor’s house is gated,
With a
policeman standing guard.
Most times
that job seems boring
And,
although it isn’t hard
If things go
wrong, there will be blame
So every day
and night,
The little
guard hut’s occupied;
Security is
tight.
I’m sitting
with a perfect view
And watched
the guard unlock
The iron
gates; two SUV’s
Drove in
from up the block.
The tinted
windows gave no hint
Of passengers
within.
Perhaps it
was the mayor
(Soon ex-mayor;
he won’t win).
His presence
or his absence
Doesn’t
really mean a lot,
But I’m
envious because he always
Has a parking
spot.
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