Church of the Cul de Sac

[CRNDLSM]

Our children ride bikes in circles
while we, the parents, flock
along the sidewalk like birds on a wire.
(I always heard that birds have church too, this is the only place you say 'I' instead of 'we', making me think it's an interjection from the narrator, which takes away from the sarcastic flow of the rest.  How about a statement of fact.
congregated like strings of black pearls.)
We are the Church of St. Coca—
cappuccino, latte, mocha. In yoga pants,
rain boots, and Seahawks sweatshirts—
a heathen's Sunday best – we are the Church of I also think if this is 'we' speaking of the church, they wouldn't be the type to address themselves as 'heathen'
“How do your kids like Mrs. So and So's class?”
Weather cycles, property lines,
water pressure, recycling schedules: our education
comes from Gary, a friendly tarantula Gary here reminds me too much of Indiana, reputation wise a horrible place not really for these suburnaban uppity types
of a man—slow and hairy—
with fuzzy-bear caterpillar eyebrows.
He explains passages of the HOA manual thank you for including the HOA evil bastards
and intercedes on our behalf
with our president, to whom we pay our dues.
We think of unwell neighbors. I love this line, very thrown in as a side thought, 'we think of them' very unattached. And unwell can mean almost anything
We are the Church of the Cul de Sac, and we chant
“May the American dream be with you—
and also with you.”

Nice oNE