politics

Poetry

America, 'merica, long you have passed!
The rotten flesh smell's what compels us to act.
Look down not on vultures, or fungus, or wolves;
From them we will learn how to pick at your bones
And from your cadaver construct a new home
Where shackles and chains are as gardener's gnomes.
We’ll dance round the fire where the war machine turned…

America, baby...
Through your end we will roam
America, baby
Through your end

America, ‘merica, what will you be?
How long till from Albion’s clutches your freed?
What pestilence spreads through your mountains and trees?
From the Sound and the Rockys, the stench of disease.

What drove you to climb for the emperor’s throne?
What worldly procession do you lead with your horn?
What rhythm perverted emits from your drums?
What drove you from beauty to products and sums?

America darling, the tides and their flows,
The Pacific, Atlantic, they crinkle their nose
The Ghosts of the ancients grow tired in age;
You stifled their passion, and murdered their sage

Division, subtraction, through children you spread
Exponents linger on the souls of your dead
The poor you remember, the rich you forget
each time you decide to cast out your net

From gods of the old world you borrowed the worst
You bribe their defender, and in your sick thirst,
operations conducted: the paperclip’s curse.
Saved innocents last, the offender sought first

America, villain, corruptor of seeds!
Perhaps I’ll forgive your enumerate deeds
But others will not, and before they attack
Let me from your memory treasures take back

Your cloudy memorial
Few will attend
America, baby,
to our will you shall bend