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Your Devedlopment is Our Demolition
Your condos are unmarked headstones above the mass graves of old dreams, old lives, and memories of joy and struggle. I saw your remorsless glances at the homeless man you displaced. I passed your expensive coffee shop on the way to work that used to be my favorite bodega. I heard entitlement in your voice when you called 311 to complain about the homeless encapment and soup kitchen. I know you see yourself as more human than those of us with darker shades of skin, different accents, and smaller bank accounts. You act as if you are saintly because you think you made the niegborhood nicer but I see that the road the homeless shelter is paved in your good intentions.
It is this, that is my
It is this, that is my problem with most first world countries. Thank you for putting into words what I cannot.
post multa malae accidunt, bonae accidere potest.