THE NEW ROMANTICS
  by M.A.H. Hinton

 
another perfect lawn

no more natural
than the faux
wrought-iron gate
or the little waterfall and pond 
that bubble
the same empty water
again and again
 
looking next door
we see sneaky weeds
and wild grass
gathering on the edges
of neighboring lawns
ready for counter-attack
 
turning our backs
on so much empty perfection
we move toward
an abandoned lot
across the street
 
our eyes already finding
the beauty we seek