Primrose Lane

they build
the neighborhood in a week.

migrant workers
with hammers a bleeding.

trees go in.
they fill the ditch with water
and call

it a lake.
they pave a path around it.
ducks arrive.

shops go up.
we have landed in a place
where we'll
end our lives.

found peace.

and we call it paradise.
we are
so easily

fooled.
so easily led like sheep.