'Real' America

Red blooded fascist.


But it's wrong to think that,

our own kin bred from the same pasture 

as the cattle and dead Indians,

would wish his brother harm. 


Sweet calf led by a teet

thinks with four compartments,

hungry for raw vitriol - sanguinated milk

to keep his growing body strong. 


It wasn't the teet he followed on the prairie

but the wind that pushed him

into his mother's bosom

safe, secure.


A great red ball of fire settles the horizon 

for vast darkness where the coyotes

need no moonlight to track the scent

of their own faculty,

concerned only with one stomach while

four dogs yip

bark

cry to a mother long dead

and a landscape that will always be.


Docile grass masticated by docile things

and predators lurking for convenience,

this great land

wide open like a shed of rats

and sky

blue as an ocean caricature

was seen on TV.


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