America

I would love some feedback on this, because it's still in draft form. Lovingly ripped-off of Allen Ginsberg.

America, I’ve got to cut through to talk to you at last, mother-heart.

                I’m crouched in a white bathroom cubicle writing, with no cameras. I am quietly safe.

America your teachers are useless

                and they warble vendettas, bitter lips and pouched cheeks...

A fierce ignorance rises in my face. Bang, rustle up. A bell to rise…

O America, don’t make me go back so soon.

America your regulations aren’t for me – I know what I’m doing.

 

America I feel sentimental about the lilies. Lilacs are falling blanched with envy.

America, with the romance of your roads, open & singing, it’s ridiculous. We’re ridiculous.

Allen Ginsberg is still in fact the most enlightened man in America.

America there’s really nothing wrong if you look at it right.

 

America your corpses are rising against you, in a tidal foam of weak white fingers.

The lace of your prostitutes is sopping over clawed in cobwebs through the streets

Through the chilling rain, the vengeful maids are dancing to frighten your demons away.

 

America it’s amazingly easy to be young & vital, & a constant threat –

To use my appearance & actions to my intentions.

America I feel like homogenized fodder, and why berate myself with your stereotypes?

 

The America of pleasure gardens and ballad mongers is still here, after all!… with a broken-tongued brown piano cracks, rattles & croons our ears from Harlem Heaven.

A smooth white hand stretches to the fullness of jazz chords.

Radio detuned for clarity, undulations in machines… the intimacy of breath,

long dried in the microphone,

America. and Frank Sinatra is scowlingly alive.

 

America, sling that tattered ‘60s halo over your thick platinum skull for awhile.

America the ‘50s are dead, down gray halls, kick & spin, flaring their gums to a white-leather dawn

               spread smooth like chrome over the foreheads of skyscrapers

               on the smeared city skyline.

America I know what you do to James Dean in your diner backlots at sunrise… sweet-eyed & howling with leather.

America, we've laid claim to the most singularly uninteresting vice … an American eatery, gluttony.

England’s is a robot nation, & the French can only kill themselves, 

        all our artful disregard to life.

America… you’re all heart, young & weaning,

Europe is already bounds ahead.

 

America, you’re an apple-pie princess

Basking in your own moon reflection plated in the lake

While darkness rises in fumes, a heavy sooted fog.

America, it's come to this...

America at this point your national resources are an artillery line sinking into the sea, orchards of wire, thousands of millions of genitals, and who can admit it?

America we've never lost sight. But where's our will blown off to?

America this manifesto song is burning our throats under your stadium lights.

America I’m climbing through the night... I'll never sleep. I could dream of you forever.

I sway from stars fading from your cold resusicated dawn.