I drive up Ashe Street, past the shotgun shacks
that were constructed thirty years ago
as subsidized apartments for the poor.
I saw the plans—a strip mall down to Snow
as rangy as a line of Kerouac’s:
a sandwich shop, a huge Verizon store,
a chiropractor, and a Cup O' Joe.
 
Construction will commence the first of June,
but first, machines—like growling gods!—will clear
the row of homes that, up to now, withstood
the signs of change—  a sign, now posted near,
announces, Ashe Street Plaza. Coming soon!
It should include, though, for the neighborhood,
You can’t come home, unless you’re shopping here.