Our America sulks in the gutters,
in the rotten alleyways of those living in the shadows.
As corporations, as greed, as self-obsession
damages our life web.
Our America loves the lonely dying child,
as suburban 'mother's **** the illegal pool boy.
Our America peers through holey, worn fabrics
as bare-fleshed youth slaughter for
sweatshop brands.
Our America becomes the past
becomes unknown
becomes a dead fad
as mysterious men lure the idea of a future.
Sep 23, 2010
Sep 23, 2010 at 4:58 AM UTC
Our America sulks in the gutters,
in the rotten alleyways of those living in the shadows.
As corporations, as greed, as self-obsession
damages our life web.
Our America loves the lonely dying child,
as suburban 'mother's **** the illegal pool boy.
Our America peers through holey, worn fabrics
as bare-fleshed youth slaughter for
sweatshop brands.
Our America becomes the past
becomes unknown
becomes a dead fad
as mysterious men lure the idea of a future.
MINE!
Request permission to use this poem