It is election season and I have yet to put up
my election season decorations, though
my neighbor has and, suffice it to say,
they are not the ones I would have chosen.
I won’t tell you the name on their signs so
you can exist in a world where this poem is
relatable to you, no matter what side of
the aisle you live on. But there were a lot of them.
They have a corner house and there were
two facing each street, and a special banner
hanging from the garage. I had no choice but
to see these signs when I went to the store
with the red circle logo (which I won’t tell you
the name of in case you prefer the one with
the yellow sunburst…I don’t want to turn you off)
or go on my walks around the neighborhood
which is as close as we can get to going to
an amusement park since the plague descended
on our land. It was reported to me by my wife,
who does much more of the neighborhood walking,
that bandits stole all the signs from their yard.
The only evidence, yet another neighbor, whose
only public signs are the ones congratulating their
sons for graduating elementary school,
claimed to have seen a car speeding away.
It’s a crime. It’s theft. I can’t claim to be unhappy
about it, but these are the same neighbors who
open up their pool unconditionally to our
elementary school graduates when the sun
beats down upon our roofs. The same neighbors
who wrote music that has probably put smiles
on your faces. Let there be no quarrel
between them and us. We may go left,
while they go right, but the land is watered enough
for all of us. Like Abraham and Lot before us.
This is how we live together.