State Of Siege
Mc Donald’s wrappers
mating with coca cola cans
floating across the rivers of America
Walt Whitman’s children forced
to inhale exhaust fumes worse than
a coal miner’s lungs
Christ run out of town
for practicing his trade without
a union card
children weaned on Campbell’s
chicken noodle soup
not withstanding all those tiny
booger hearts floating in a sea of fat
Late at night I can hear the
cannon fodder of Union soldiers
the sound of Confederate rifle fire
deadening my dulled senses
knowing I can’t escape the
hangman’s noose stretched out
across the face of America
In the shadow of night
I hear the whimpering
of soft skinned women carrying
silkscreen fans in bone white hands
mothers of the children
I will never know
April 2nd, 2009 at 10:22 am
like devil breeze through the streets of my brain…