America

I’m as American as rotten apple pie left forgotten on the windowsill
because there’s a new Idol scandal on the idiot box
and the whole family’s so much more concerned with what Simon says than what momma might’ve slaved over all afternoon
driving in a big ass convertible Cadillac
top down at over a 100 plus miles per hour
belly full of cheap whisky, lungs full of unfiltered lucky strikes
one hand white-knuckled gripping the vinyl steering wheel
and the other graciously giving the bird to the picturesque American landscape blazing by in a blur of browns and greens
dotted here and there by a billboard no wider than maybe a half inch at the speeds I’m going
but I don’t need to pause to read the message, they’re all the stating same thing: welcome to America, now sit down, shut up, strap in and hold on
tuck your head between your legs and kiss your ass goodbye because I am American
not imperialism and warfare, I’m the more subtle, more poisonous America
the America that creeps into the minds of your young boys keeping them up late at night watching scrambled porno hoping like hell for that moment when they might make out a clear nipple in the midst of all that static
I’m the America that slinks up the miniskirt of your teenage daughter
you know the one she’s not supposed to be wearing but snuck out of the house beneath baggy sweat pants saying she’s off to a friend’s house to do homework
when the only studying she’s doing is in the backseat of some sweaty-palmed senior’s daddy’s buick lesaber hoping she can grope herself into some sort of conformed social acceptance
I’m the America that keeps on keeping on by keeping us all down
ground under the palm of big brother, corporate America and the man in whatever color or gender he may come in
the America that turns a blind eye to fair and balanced because injustice is more honest
you don’t get more hitting the nail on the head bullseye than bullshitting your fellow man for a quick buck or just some shits and giggles
the America that won’t ever let two men marry but loves to watch two girls making out
the nation of corpulent couch potato pseudo-pundits packing their fat mouths with potato chips and beer watching worldwide wrestling federation talking about how the greasy Mexicans are taking all the good white man’s jobs
then bitching because his welfare check hasn’t come in the mail yet
the America who travels overseas and gripes because nobody sounds like me and I can’t get a good cheeseburger; I mean what the fuck is a royale with cheese
the America who hands over its rights gift-wrapped with a big fucking bow tied right on the top so I don’t have to worry too much about being too free
and I can enjoy my freedom fries and supersized styrofoam happy meal at the expense of some third world child who’s name I couldn’t possibly even pronounce if I gave enough of a shit to try
just keep making sneakers that fall apart in a few months and underwear elastic that stretches way out of proportion so when I reach back to scratch my white hairy American ass it’s easily accessible
give me shitty, vapid, mindless entertainment 24 hours a day 7 days a week 4 weeks a month and 12 months a year so I can inhabit my lazyboy sucking back pork rinds and screaming at my wife for a blowjob and a sandwich
if I didn’t even have to move to take a shit, I’d be the fucking Buddha
content being ignorant?
Shit, I’m so fucking happy to be so fucking stupid I don’t even know where to start
The middle east: bomb those fuckers and make it a parking lot
Poverty and homelessness: get a job or get off my lawn
Racism: I’ll just move to a nice lily white neighborhood where I can mow my lawn smiling like the biggest asshole in the whole world talking over my white picket fence about the “other side of the tracks”
You know, where all the black people live
this is the America we’ve all worked so very hard to build and is now toppling off its own axis and crushing us in the rubble
the most perfect analogy for our nation; 9/11
we watch twin towers crash and fall and the best fucking course of action we can take
bomb the shit out of some brown people
and sell lots of cheap plastic American flags to hang from our SUV antennas
only 4.99 right now at your local wal mart
let’s not take a closer look at where our problems originated, no
we’ve got the bombs, the guns, and a much, much bigger dick than anyone else on this planet
and when America swings its pendulous penis around like a fleshy warhammer
you better get the fuck out of its way or start swinging along with us
stay the course
if you’re not with us, you’re against us
god bless America
because considering all these facts
we really fucking need it

swallow

today i've decided to weep words instead
let verse run down the palm of my hand and catch it
rivers running through pens like wet ink will dry the tears i'm determined not to shed
and applying to pages the pain jabbing at my eyes demanding to drink flowing water will wash away my thoughts and leave me adrift on the sea of inspiration
just trying to fill this empty space inside with volume
like the rushing of wept words can drown out the screams i'm holding in the back of my throat
taking shots to choke it back like it's the only antidote
but ask any poet for truth and they'll tell you
poured libations can only fill so long before you find yourself parched again
empty bottles don't yield enough refund to payback the expense of making them so
and no matter how many pens run dry or pages get filled
we remain thirsting for enough spit to fill that empty space inside
with volume
let crash together the torrents of your frustrations like empty ears are decanters and nothing but your words can fill them so we all might drink together
spend your last breath swimming through the ocean of each day reaching for the surface
and when you've finally come above the crushing weight of life trying to drown you inhale that first breath deeply
and swallow
be filled with the bounty of simply surviving
if only to weep words and spit verses
emptying ourselves just to remain thirsty for that next day's first breath
now swallow
just be filled with just being here
like life itself is water
knocking it back in double and triple pour doses
drowning empty gullets to the fill line
then swallow
give me pain on the rocks with a heartbreak chaser and two shots of uncertainty
smacking the table and shouting
like god's a bartender and tonight
she's pouring real heavy
lining up glasses so i can fill palms to empty them
and swallow
immerse me in existence if only to ride the highest crests and dive to its lowest depths
keep my vision blurred like staring out from a street puddle during a rainstorm
keep me staggering drunk so i can sway like the current at nighttime
weaving back and forth
and if i crash like tidal waves into empty space
then let me fall freely
full of life poured lavishly

memory of a touch

in my mind i'm still tracing my fingertip across the curve of your chin
just below your lips
probably the spot i miss most
the base of your smile
the point pressing into my chest as you slept so comfortably next to me
head tucked under my own chin
hair splayed out across my chest when not tied back
the most passionate moment caught in complete stillness
and though i'm a man of movement
almost constant kinetic action
i ache, longing for those seemingly unending unconscious hours
of you entwined in my arms
breathing evenly against my neck
completely asleep
yet smiling
i'm not sure if i ever told you that
you smile in your sleep, almost all the time
sometimes you would nearly wake
only long enough to kiss me gently and resituate yourself closer
or grip me tightly and look up into my eyes
still smiling
only to make those perfect lips and shining eyes beam even brighter
for just a moment
before you silently fell back to sleep again
smiling
in that perfect stillness
when the rays of morning sun would start radiating through the blinds
trying desperately to interrupt your slumber
you'd use me as a shield against waking
burying your face in my chest so no light would breech the security of your eyelids and wake you
most mornings i'd lie awake and just let you fitfully fight against facing the day
sometimes well into the afternoon
content to just lie beside you
clothed in nothing more than your radiating beauty
the soft slope of your hips
the valley of the arch in your back
i would trace these landscapes with my fingertips and smile
kissing your stomach or shoulders softly
so as not to wake you
just let you remain there
in perfectly silent stillness
but i am a man of movement
and these thoughts cause me to linger too long at what once was
and probably won't ever be again
my hands now travel the length of blank pages and pens
the only stillness:
my words left wet and drying between blue lines
i cannot remain here
caught in limbo between pressing on to the next day
and letting the past leave such an impression on me that this day
seems to stay still forever
and though i've preached proudly to keep moving
i'm teetering on toetips
unable to take that next step and just forget you
still tracing fingertips across the curve of your chin in my thoughts
nearly nightly
sometimes, almost on the hour each hour
i can't move past the meeting of my touch and your smile
so i suppose i must walk forward with eyes closed
and sunshine painted across the backs of my eyelids
hoping my memories of you will be bright enough to keep me from tripping
one step after another towards whatever tomorrow will hold for me
my path illuminated by the light of what yesterday held
i'll always cherish the glow you bestowed upon me
i'll keep it tucked tightly away in a pocket in the back of my mind
only to be brought out when these uncertain steps forward lead me into darkness
to help light my way