Silver Firs, Washington

You can see the cougars looming in the trees;
Every single building here in Silver Firs
looks like the last one on a long road into the wilderness
a classic case of named-after-what-used-to-be-there

Yes, this now-suburban community hasn’t
Been the same since the applebees (with their tasty happy hours)
And the safeway (with their deals on flowers)
And the house after house set three trees in,
just enough green to obscure sattelite dishes,
Everyone here with their trucks and SUVs

Feeling cheated that they’ll never have to kill an Indian.
Or fight a sharecropper. Or make their own moonshine.
Which is why the stares are still hard and mean, even
On the way to Jr.’s soccer practice, suspicious glares
At those who smoke in front yards—it’ll set off the kerosene!
Best not talk too loud after dark, it’ll attract the bears
Just waiting there beyond the next condo,
They weren’t messing around
When they put the sign up
That said Dead End.