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I sometimes walk to a park not too far away from home. It’s one that I’ve written about before, but I keep noticing that children rarely use it because the homeless have taken over. This weekend, two homeless men were under the park’s wooden structure, meant for kids to climb, smoking weed and relaxing. It inspired the very first Jason Rantz Show poem.

Where Kids Should Play, But Addicts Stay

In the shadow of Jeff Bezos, the city built a sweet spot,
A playground for children, well, at least that’s what we thought.
With Amazon Spheres just a stone鈥檚 throw away,
Park leaders pictured cute children, all laughter and play.

But welcome to Seattle, where dreams (and businesses) come to die,
Where homeless addicts declare, “This park is all mine!”
A park for the kids? Well, maybe someday,
But for now, the homeless (err, sorry, “the unhoused”) have come to “play.”

The smell of weed coats the air, a South Lake Union special treat.
Forget the scent of fresh-cut grass, it’s the stoners’ smoky feat.
Blunts as big as baseball bats, they puff without a care,
Turning the park into a drug den, where no children would dare.

Sometimes it’s fentanyl that the addict will consume,
As the park becomes a space for impending doom.
Needles on the slide, the equipment left to rust,
In a city that has lost its way, along with our reason to trust.

One dude鈥檚 got the whole park under his reign,
Flashing and pleasuring himself, he’s lost in his brain.
Brain? What brain, you may ask with disdain,
It鈥檚 long gone, traded for a one-way ticket to policies insane.

Thank the Democrats, they legalized drugs,
Turning parks into havens for addicts and thugs.
Oof, don’t get me started on what they’ve done to this city and state,
Their so-called “progress” has only sealed our fate.

I take a brief moment to say “Jason Rantz Poem,”
It鈥檚 my SEO keyword. Without it, this blog would be in ruin.
Gotta game the system, make sure it鈥檚 found,
‘Cause without those clicks, my snark鈥檚 like Publicola: Readers barely around.

Sorry for the detour, I’ll get back to the park
Just know poetry is not my strong suit, but this is a good start?
Though … let’s be honest about why you’re here, I should add a bit more snark.

Got sunny weather or a bit of light rain?
That鈥檚 when the homeless make the park their domain.
Designers stupidly gave the playground a tiny roof and bench,
Ensuring the homeless would move in and entrench.

And that’s what they did, taking over
Turning a Seattle Parks staffer’s dream into something so sad and dark.
Kids? I don’t even feel comfortable bringing D’Artagnan to this space,
Where safety and sanity have both been erased.

Neighbors stroll by, but don鈥檛 bat an eye,
The park鈥檚 for the people, they鈥檒l tell you, no lie!
But where are the children? Where鈥檚 the joy in their eyes?
Oh, that鈥檚 right 鈥� they鈥檙e inside overpriced apartments, safe from the homeless who are so very, very high.

Seattleites don’t seem to care about this despair, lying to themselves that “Seattle is thriving,”
Ignoring the truth, while the city鈥檚 just barely surviving.
The damage progressives have done to Seattle is hard to explain in a poem,
But look around, and you’ll see the chaos they’ve sown.

OK, that doesn鈥檛 quite rhyme unless you mispronounce “sown,”
But trust me, the mess they’ve made is clearly shown.

“Shown” was the word that first came to mind in that last verse,
Maybe because this city鈥檚 decline feels like a curse.
Phew, I just saved this poem! Though I’m sure “The Stranger” will find reason to jeer,
At least when the city’s crumbling, their propaganda is harder to hear.

Progressives promised compassion, they preached it insufferably loud,
But what did we get? Chaos wrapped in a fentanyl or weed cloud!
Parents, beware of this park, don鈥檛 bring your kids near,
Unless you鈥檙e teaching them lessons in things they should fear.

The city built nice things, but residents can鈥檛 catch a break,
Because here in Seattle, it鈥檚 all give and no take.
Well, that’s not really true 鈥� the council and mayor take taxes with delight,
Funding pet projects while the streets rot in plain sight.

Progressives promise the world, but deliver despair,
Leaving us to wonder if they even care.
Seattle’s a playground for policies gone wrong,
Where common sense and reason vanished, and madness belongs.

Ironic, then, that they gave us a literal playground,
Laws in Seattle? Hah! They’re nowhere to be found.
A park meant for joy, now soaked in vice,
Welcome to Seattle: Where we can鈥檛 have anything nice.

But at least you get a Jason Rantz poem, something you didn’t expect,
A little snarky truth to keep Seattle’s crises in check.

Listen to The Jason Rantz Show on weekday afternoons from 3-7 p.m. on KTTH 770 AM (HD Radio 97.3 FM HD-Channel 3). Subscribe to the聽podcast here. Follow Jason on聽,听听补苍诲听.