or How We Killed Our Downtown
There once was a tidy small business,
Doing well in a long block of stores,
In a downtown of fun, warmed by acres of sun,
With open signs on all of their doors.
The inside was packed with some good stuff:
From hardware to toothpaste of mint.
The owner well spoke of this customer folk,
As their patronage paid all his rent,
And covered the cost of the pavement
For the broad shady Main Street outside,
And the cop on his feet greeting all on the beat,
And the park with the merry-go-ride.
Then corporate decided a big box
Would fit nicely just outside of town.
Folks could now shop by just making one stop,
At this huge corporate store of renown.
And the people all flocked to the big box,
Causing merchants on Main Street to frown.
The love they once felt lost by cards they’d been dealt,
And the little guy’s dreams crumbled down.
But another thing soon gained great traction:
Buying stuff with the click of a mouse.
Soon it became true: big box days, too, were through.
Seems that retail’d departed that house.
But the people delighted and reveled.
What they purchased came right to their doors!
No more would they greet that ol’ cop on the beat,
Nor visit those huge, big box stores.
The now vacant buildings stood empty.
No business, so no rent was paid.
The tax base did rupture, as did the town’s structure.
So the city could not but degrade.
Then appeared all the poor and the homeless,
Busting in to find shelter from storm,
Littering the floor with their trash and much more.
Impoverishment became the new norm.
As on-line big business grew wealthy,
Patrons found there was nowhere to go,
Save that damned old mouse click, that got stuff really quick.
Thus the wealth of the titans did grow.
A quick glance in what once was small business,
And who might be camped on the floor?
An old homeless man, we’ll recall if we can,
T'was the merchant we’d shopped with before.
The lesson is both bold and simple.
It should have been learned long ago:
Bigger and faster can lead to disaster.
So be wary ‘bout what we let go.
See, we cannot complain ‘bout our downtown,
Where drug deals and vagrants hang on,
If we don’t own our part in the death of its heart,
And continue to shop Amazon.
©2026
Church of the Open Road Press
