I found out today my American Dream
with its mortgage, gazebo and lawn,
is built where once stood an old chemical plant,
of which visible traces are gone.
I first started thinking that things were amiss
when my roses, which used to be pink,
turned the color of motor oil, bloomed upside-down,
and emitted a toluene stink.
Our terrier Spot caught a demonic itch,
and shed follicles all through the house.
Then the kitty went hunting one fine summer day,
and came home with an inside-out mouse.
The birdbath dissolved where it stood overnight,
and went seeping down into the ground.
The pines smelled like asphalt, the lilacs went black,
and dead squirrels were heaped in a mound.
I called Jimbo Smiley, my real estate man,
to complain, so he listened then said:
"Most likely it's just a last lingering trace
of dioxin, or naphtha, or lead."
I asked Mr. Smiley what gave him the right
to sell homes on a poisonous dump:
"Don't you care that these toxins might kill us?" I cried.
He laughed, "Caveat emptor, you chump."
I threatened to sue him, I hollered and raged
till my throat became raspy with yelling.
With a flippant "Too bad!" he then hung up the phone,
while the fumes from my yard grew worse-smelling.
My wife soon departed, the pets all expired,
now I'm losing the sight in one eye.
Guess we're all bound to cook in a chemical hell,
for allowing our good Earth to die.