Casual, prodigal, these piss-poor opportunists the weeds
in their glad rags and millennial hand-me-downs
of yellow and purple and pale green are everywhere
along the highway, on every inch of waste ground
in our cultivated suburbs, where they raise their families

and stare through our lace-curtained windows and
wag their heads at us, flaunting their speechless force
and eager trust in themselves, the irresistable fact that
theirs is the kingdom, the power, and the glory of
the real world smiling full and frightful in our faces.