America Will Never!

America Will Never!

Look out, here she comes again riding

the waves as usual, indifferent to our

lack of caution. And that’s the problem.

Heaven forbid we should forget ourselves:

The frogbound pond observes our nakedness.

Perhaps their amber eyers relax us for the

axe and Amy Simple rides to give our Granny

forty smacks.  We lie in myriads so sleek.

Come, let us anoint ourselves with oil and

seek the holy whale.  But then she lisps,

“Where’s the men’s women?” Ah, there in the

sky some transcendental pizza, laminate of sun.

And we almost choke on clusters, many marbles.

You count them. I am tired of lying to you.

-T.C.Buell

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