Skid row, marginal. Some will call it home
Emptied for the art walk while the missions close
Pop-up tent cities abounding
Birthing scant displaced humanity

As we diversify
We spill from cities
Beyond the wealth crest
Traditional boundaries

Everything meant to burn. Thirty-year cycles
Mud pots, sandstone bluffs, crumble and erode
Fault lines, fortitude
Small streets swell into grand avenues

As we devalue
Debtors of the dream
Living oblivion
Skin-deep sun-seeking

Life in the construct that's sold
Promised land, golden state, sunny, blissful
No longer affordable
Surviving California