suBLURBia

I was there,
once, for a while, and it was good, or at least
OK.
Maybe
serviceable
is a better word.
It was
that.
Cars. Houses. Kids. Doctors,
dentists,
soccer fields.
Waldenbooks.
Starbucks. Chikfilay,
or something
like that.
Everyone has to
live
somewhere.
Even
the chains.
Sometimes, anyway.
I am there, again, now,
and it is
different.
No longer
serviceable.
Mostly
outdated,
to me anyway.
Who are
these
people?
Where are
they going
all the time?
And, better yet,
why?
I sit in traffic
and
marvel.
I trundle along
behind
cars with school stickers and finally understand
road rage.
I feel trapped.
I feel old.
I feel somehow
lost, even though
I know where I live.
Or, at least, where I
currently
reside.