A town of vaporous joy
(on the shoulders of God's canvas)
where every wonder is a ploy-
overpriced and underhanded.
Travelers scurry, anxiously searching
for a relaxing escape.
Parents' hope precariously perching
on the valleyed, kitschy landscape.
Families carry memories
they try to recreate.
Acting out documentaries
of joy, but it won't replicate.
A man that I do not know
tells me he loves this community.
I count him as part of the show,
taking his insincere opportunity.
Vapid connections, conversations-
cacophonous counterfeit depth.
A masquerade of expectations;
I am dancing with the rest.
Surface roots are all some know,
skimming dirt, missing richness.
When deeper truths hum low,
shallow roots miss this.
But souls have grabbed these joy clouds-
elation, excitement, electric smiles.
The "community" is just a crowd
but the man intends no guiles.
In a temporary town,
there's permanence behind Main Street:
Where tents and facades abound,
foundations and structure lay beneath.
