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Poem

Normal people come in packs of six
Some are born in cardboard boxes 
In suburbs, in summer, in campers
In the middle of the middle class
In clicks and clacks on railroad tracks

Rich people shower frequently in power
In God we trust the upper crust to laugh
Normal people want mobility Up
To supper in good company
To be pretty as a picture on the beach
To frolic in the waves of milk and honey

With apologies to Jesus people sing
Some dance in fire merrily

Normal people come in from the cold
Candy sweet and happy to be seen
Some come from baby factories  
From across the street in greeting seasons 

Middle class people love the poor
They love themselves much more
That is why babies are born

Subways are for the pedestrian class
Travelling from left to right transformative
In nature train people are always in motion
Moving on is always right
                      
The mundane remain the same
With Happy Hour and a six pack waiting
Somewhere down the line the land cracks open
It is another earthquake opened with a smile

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