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No bailed attempts at duty nor crating Ikea answers to Pacific questions. How can I legitimately live<div>outside my means with a mortgage? How can I </div><div>thrive on the land allotted, built a hundred feet midair? </div><div> </div><div>Next is there speculative real estate in clouds?</div><div>What can't I afford on spec? Complicit with the wreck</div><div>of upward spiral model hoping someone-not-me</div><div>to be under the topple of the rhinestone top. Stop.</div><div> </div><div>Think positive. The plausible, the seen: the sprinkler, </div><div>the 50s denial in a front lawn, green, fence, without </div><div>defensiveness. Children need grass that parents own; </div><div>parks won't do. Green roofs aren't done. Stun gun me.</div><div> </div><div>If we don't ask, can't be won. See all those glittering bits of </div><div>unasked for, hon'? Blood money diamond wishes in the </div><div>suncatchers swaying in the off-gassing we don't mention.</div><div>Pensions we wait for with closed eyes. What's ethical is</div><div> </div><div>7-generations wise. Remind ourselves of log cabins, castles</div><div>exurbs with ticky-tack veneers of glued wood. Working my life</div><div>for 4 walls of painted particle board. What you can't afford: </div><div>beauty and answers ignored. Allan key ease mucking up the works.</div>
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What is the sum of 10 and 7:
It's your turn! Move into the poem. Renovate it. Knock down its walls. Put your spin on it. Make it your own.