Riffing on comments about high-density housing and the parking woes it would likely bring.

Like asking two cans of sardines

To cram themselves into one can

Or balancing a hill of beans

On the palm of a frail old man:

Between the walls you know exist

Lurk many hidden studios,

Rooms for rent, houses that consist

Of ‘apartments’ for broke yo-yos;

The jobs we get are not often

Nearby our hidden shack dwellings –

We might want to be green, dampen

The streets’ clutter, but need our things;

We can’t park in a sedan stack,

We have no yards cars can adorn,

We can’t bring our trucks into our shacks –

Paid parking stalls will soon be born;

And if we have to pay to park,

The ‘rent’ will not be near as cheap –

“Profits rise while life gains no spark.”

Is this a goal we wish to seek?

We don’t need new cans to cram full

Or more beans to stack on the pile,

Your eyes must be covered with wool –

Can’t you see density is our style?


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