Orange County, home of cultures
where the rats will sometimes race,
now is also home for vultures
dropping shit on every face,
as well as cars you have to wash
every time you’re in the county.
People will not think you’re posh,
covered with this avian bounty,
if you live in Newport Beach,
or in Irvine, or in Tustin;
though the bird shit looks like bleach
or the sands of St. Augustine,
for there is a disconnect
separating O.C. culture
from my culture in L.A.,
since I am a culture vulture,
and the County’s birds of prey
bother me, so I hold fonder
woods of Beverly where I,
peacefully inside my Honda,
never vulture shit espy.


3/10/05

gershon hepner

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/orange-county/