Scorched Earth

You sent us a notice: You planned
to trash our soccer field and
root up the old school and
make another school for
your friend's company to make
money on. Did we
have any last words before
you had your way?

You didn't ask: Should the trees
that shaded the sidewalk be
efficiently tossed
into a dumpster? Would we mind
the dust and the roaring or
the desolate absence
of screaming children?

Yes. We don't have time to fight
every last scam you propose
to impose; but we most certainly
do mind.