Hometowns

They start talking about who they were
before they became what they are today.

They say they feel so lucky to have made it
out, given how life is terrible there today.

There are no more trees on the hillsides;
only new construction everywhere today.

And the graft! The corruption! Even the dead
can be unearthed from their resting places today,

after their skin and bones have melted away.
Even a mausoleum niche can be resold today. 

You pay to be interred only to find out more fees
are due— for final burial in the soil another day. 

A man hands out shiny half dollar coins and crisp
two dollar bills as if he's running for office today.

Outside, rain batters the coast. With rising winds,
not even the biggest umbrellas give shelter today.