America
Where have you gone?
You are the government
Your people are gone
No longer there
       or by the people
Truth is abstract and twisted
        to fit your narrative
Speech is reclassified and censored
       by your minions
To undersatnd you...
I must think and hear the opposite
       of what is said
My home and church
       are no longer my sanctuary
You monitor my prayers and dreams
Cancel them to create a religion
        of your own
To be obeyed
The sun is setting
We are leaderless and disenfranchised
As you play divide and conquer
To maintain and consolidate control
Unity is otherwise
For knowledge would  be found
In the otherwise
Setting the people free
     to come and take its place
At the table of government
     by the people
Again

Into another awaking
Another day to go
Repeating
Always different
Like the flow
        of the river
Always meeting the sky
         in the distance
With a glaze at sunset
Some will come and stare
Leaving behind stress
Accompanied with pain
Into a common self
Left to find
An answer
To this riddle

For no apparent reason
A mirror and covers  
An American flag(Red, White and Blue)
To catch the reflection
       of a hand cuffed man
Beaten by the police
In the name of law and order
For no apparent reason

Past mistakes
      that made history
Won't let go
Appearing to hold some
Despite a present and future
      that awaits
Some will remain content
       wallowing in their past mistakes
Never making history in the present
        to move along in their future
Only left to lie stagnant
          in blank state of mind
All ones choice
Then there are others
Others who wish to live in the present
           finding a path to their future
They fight and hold back past mistakes
When appearing and intersecting them
            as a rememberance
Pushing it back
Picking up pieces of knowledge
           in the scuffle
Moving forward all the while
Finding peace in the present
          that anticipates a future
All ones choice
Again

Into the past
Finding a place on a street
       with phone booths
Cell phones yet invented
         and many buildings
                with diversity
Created out of finacial necessity
Not by a forced "WOKE"agenda
We were all free to speak
Just a past memory today
           canceled by the ruthless elite
I walked unjudged and free
Finding the building with the fire escape
             as frontage
Where a dog seeks refuge upon
Only to squat and defecate
             onto the sidewaik below
Marking the address of a friend
              and his wife
Through a unlocked broken door
Up a noisey set of stairs
Through a heavly locked apartment door
I am greeted by my friend and his cats
The cats have thier places
In various locations
             with defications
Their box has not been emtied in weeks
All leaving a bitting odor
In sea of clutter
Known as chaos
In a unkept human presence
Yet we sit
In a confined human space
Speaking on numerous subjects
He has left his govenment job
Benefits and all
To become a writer
But, also a promoter of punk bands
               to pay for this exsistance
In this place and time
To end up about my poetry
As his wife looks on
In a attentive blank stare
Her ******* are huge
Intact
No restrictions
In a ******* T shirt
We are young
Leaving me to wonder
Is it my friend
Or his wife I come to visit?
I concude that I am a ******
Not a poet
In this time and place
He  hands me a pen and paper
Encouraging me to write poetry
I write with puff and beer in hand
As cover for my alternative motive
I write distracted by her
Fulfilling my friends desire
To obtain and pocess
What I write
Never to be seen by me again
But,possibly heard somewhere
In a punk rant

Through a door
Into a exit
you  meet her
On the way out
Around empty spaces
Leaving ***** pictures
      in your mind
She could be from anywhere
Maybe space....
Whose to Know
     with all her aliases
Left to fill her empty heart
Her face may not be the same
      just her insides
On to a seaside hotel
      framed in a bygone era
Into her room of residence
A room that will never see the past light
       of the broken neon
Just a closet full of clothes
Bottles are the decoration
Empty or full
They have there place
         among the overflowing ashtrays
Drink  is her lover
You are just a guest
          along with the dancing roaches
While they spit in your face
You think your the boss here
But she calls the shots
Love is her hate
        while lust is your mission
Self destruction is her trip
Yet you play along
As your race  becomes skiz
Choosing lust and her hate
         over real love
Life is dead here
Free your soul
God is dead
**** the world
You ******* fool
Ya
Look at your face
     in her ***** mirrors
Called eyes
It's the same
The same as hers
And now
It’s time

       You gonna **** that *****???

Dimly lit lights
Expose the despair
        from within
Of men sitting and drinking
At  a personal  alter
        made of wood
Stained by use and lust
         mixed in pain
Still they sit
Women with dilemmas
          linger close by
Waiting to be heard
As all are interrupted
         by cell phones
Still they sit
Some with pockets
That contain items
          to add to their misery
In forms of vegetation
          to burn
Pills to swallow
Dust to snort or injected
All  to be digested
In hopes to change the decor
Still they sit and drink
          with no happy endings
Leaving them torn apart
Thrashed
Pulled like pork
Until all expectations
        are lost
Waiting for the answer
         to their fate
Blaming others
         never themselves
In the interim
Still not received
They sit and drink
          to tolerate their own self-indulgence
Again……