Master's Home

Behind the guarded gate,
distinguished designs,
obscene and hidden
from eyes unfit to see,

and they call this a community.

In the spacious foyer
the chandelier shivers and tinkles,
casting prisms at shadows,
from cathedral ceiling to Parquet floor,

plantation owners of a new world.

Self-lies and facelifts,
feasting dust mites
ripened and ready to burst,
fat off the skin of the working poor,

ever grasping.