Baker and not Brewer Be - edit

[dukealien]

Baker and not Brewer Be


I always like to see black families
in my development, a leavening
of some escaping downcast miseries
and others not, charmed in our gardened ring.

Without them we would sag, a doughy mass
of uniformly flabby flour-white bread
among our lawns of weeded, watered grass–
fat, sun-hatted against neck-rings of red.

Perhaps without enfolding dough their yeast
would just ferment and sour them down to death
in alcohol and Envy, green-eyed beast
that strangles every unselfconscious breath.

Or are such neighbors only counters showing
my tolerance?  Perhaps - there’s just no knowing.

original version;

I always like to see black families
in my development, a leavening
of some escaping downcast miseries
and others not, charmed in our gardened ring.

Without them we would sag, a doughy mass
of uniformly flabby flour-white bread
among our lawns of weeded, watered grass–
fat, sun-hatted against neck-rings of red.

Perhaps without variety their yeast
would just ferment and sour them down to death
in alcohol and envy, green-eyed beast
that strangles every unselfconscious breath.

Or are my neighbors only counters showing
my tolerance?  Perhaps - there’s just no knowing.