white paint on walls
pink and orange houses
thirty eight miles of tightly packed
boxes and palms and fish

somewhere on the side of
one of these freeways
is a mural of a marathon
somewhere waiting tables
is an actress with a dayjob
somewhere on the edge of town
is dead land
with no houses or people

palms aren't a natural occurence here

somewhere on a hill
is a palace in the trees
with a gate and a guard
and security cameras
and windows that reach floor to ceiling
and a mexican maid

down by the border
San Diego
there's a soldier with a truck
and a gun and a dog
and a retirement home
and the unnatural palms

were not little ants
but if one were at a high altitude looking down
it might apear that way