To Earth From the Planet of the One Percent

No more gated communities.
A shielded planet
is the domicile of the age.
Our mansions sit like crowns
on the regal splendor of our estates.
If you’re good,
we’ll let you see the holograms.

Groundskeepers, maids and
construction crews:
all robots.
Androids fly our vessels,
protect our airspace.
We call ourselves The 500
in reference not to the number
of us elite but to the light years
to the nearest lowlife.

Those are our seven moons
and our pastel purple mountains.
We own the lakes, the rivers, oceans.
And the wildlife, of course,
to admire when we’re not blasting it.

Not even the nouveau riche
can buy into this neighborhood.
We pass our privilege down
to the coming generations.

The first words out of my two-year old’s mouth
were “flushy smelly Earth-man plop-plop.”
Yes, we gift you our words and our sewage...
for a grand total of 100%.