our eyeballs glazed with blue
marking our bodies and suffocating blue
(in a fire, crawl to reach the door. The blazes rise, and gases from the floor)
Lest you are assumed among the dead
quaking in that solemn trap of gauze, or withered by a mother’s fearsome gaze.
No sir, we will not sing of grace.
We sing assured that she was always dead
and held aloft to keep us in the trap, (bootstraps torn
from pulling in defeat)
and still we sing:
Anoint the rolling hills with oil! and choke upon the luscious spill
and leaking from the salted earth
chalky pale in your grays like the moths you emulate.
I shed my widow’s drab and name you
carrion! A vector of disease,
Wheezing through the stub of your tracheotomy
I shed my winter coat and name you
victory! And now I am bare in the street
You like the men who tell it like it is?
Let’s call this deadly victory defeat
sometimes being an American feels like having an abusive relative
obviously the title is taken from the star spangled banner