Blog 2018

EXILE IN THE HOMELAND: An Open Poem to Congress

 

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Exile in the Homeland: A New Year’s Eve Open Poem to Congress

 

America I’m the inhabited what have you become America w/yr. major and minor leagues yr. assassins’ fine sheets this attraction to violent music and AK-47’d streets America look I’m yr. tree yr. individuality yr. middle name yr. fault yr. accomplishment yr. capital adventure yr. failure socially yr. Orphan writing in Exile yr. interior dialogue yr. stratified strategy America I would die for 5¢ coffee & all that we could be America beyond your Armed Reserves I’m generation X-patria yr. doggerel of wasted time yr. front page news America I have more than 25¢I’m dead w/nickels and dimes living tax free yr. destined accident yr. poetic ineptitude the collected best of what’s undoing made in greed America feed me I’m hungry yr. refugeed last chance loot winner suffocating in trucks & trunks & cargoed streams America yr. banks are succumbing to all things Great yr. libraries aren’t Liberated yr. librarians not Free yr. tics are Democratic yr. tocks allied subliminally republic to your Decree thank paradox thank irony  still I wanna be new yr. nonviolent non-weaponry yr. intellectual firearm not running on MT not losing ground losing water or air its pretty elemental America I’m lonely you lose yr. meters are full I’m giving up I have yr. ticket yr. # yr. added pit: 499 ready-to-go Los Alamos America I need yr. Prozac please a little MerckAmerica a little Pfizer-driven prosperity: Lunesta Ha! What am I?  Nuts?  America I’m drawing the line give me a Winston a Lucky Strike yr. caviar nights are over America yr. losing yr. Douglas Firs America I’m culling trunks from Superior’s shores America I fear we’re a dying breed here’s One for the Gipper the news you don’t read America $16.95 or $7.99 I hate yr. reckless poetry America I’m misunderstood Senators yr. petition please my alien spouse is here I’ve lost my home in roaming fees these charges drawn this dawn against me called yr. sun Sirs and Madams please my knees are failing my back for your lettuce and strawberries America I’m ignorant now but really never used to be yr. butting in yr. bugging me I’m tapped out America wired for complicity   are you joking America joking w/me   I am yr. statement imagining America: Will you transfer my funds now please America this is mutual: I am yr. childless revolution and you are overdrawn USAID America yr. sad broken billboard of democracy yr. rundown schools yr. un-massed transitive verbs of highway run-on belching tar & concrete nouns hurt my feet I tell you a cold is coming on America I want nylons and chocolate too America does this mean war America let’s do lunch sometime soon no really I mean it I miss you I’ll pick you up say 1:00 or noon America things aren’t looking very bright in spite of Boston’s Review (America yr. elite yr. beautiful yr. brilliant and shiny almost.com new are not yr. poor made for Arlington who’ll never edit the coastal news) America my mood has not improved yr. grandmother’s are starting to complain yr. vets are starting the protests again yr. immigrant workers yr. soldiers yr. steel auto textile in-the-air industry trans-Atlantic trans-Pacific stewards of the skies o pie pie pie America this is serious I’m on alert yr. finger’s on the gun I’m covert at the Mall yr. concealed in school halls I have a headache America what’s wrong I’ve got water to sell yr. keeping score America I can bake a cake America my goose is cooked America the best minds of my generation are barely receiving representation & I’m getting’ tired of chicken-shit news like “Allende was killed” what’s wrong with the word assassinated America I’m looking up yr. tree I’m eye to eye with future pulp I’m leveled with democracy yr. last skid row yr. capital flesh yr. flora and fauna the dying oceans’ deforested story I’m calling I’m calling you there

I’m calling

I’m calling

 

hullo

 

 

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