Parking-Lot Farm

They are building a farm in the parking-lot behind my apartment building. They are bringing in chickens and cows and piggies. There will be hens and roosters snuggled up in the hen-house: "Coo coo" they will shout! "Coo coo" at the crack of dawn to wake the sleeping residents!

The bunnies will till the fields and dust the crops while the chickens pick gravel and bits of broken glass from their webbed toes. The resilient owl will harvest the wheat as the goats and horses bray and chew weeds from the cracked pavement. The softs scents of baking bread will rise from the chimney of the badgers shed, as he readies himself for the roadside sale. "Hello" he will shout, his window ajar, "hello and come to the sale".

The sad pigs will suckle the spewing exhaust pipe from my landlords car, thinking it is the teat of their mama. The sun will rise and set on the farm, with the busy workers ploughing and working long into the night to keep their fledgling enterprise afloat. Everyone working together. Everyone doing their part, even me.