**** the witch
hogtied to this
thin-skinned wagon
packed with privilege
call me wicked
if it makes it easier
view my plight
as one of my own making
I should have done
as I was told

Brand me traitor
as dust obscures
this timeworn scene
I know what it means
to be a whole divided
drawn and quartered
dragged to all four corners
left for buzzards
along the walled
deserted borders

scattered limbs
seeking unity
I reach for what’s mine
only to find
healing hands
too tightly praying
too busy manufacturing
high ground
in this time
of righteousness

Label me other
as I diverge
light the skies
with fireworks red
belt patriot songs
I will not mouth
empty words
to an anthem
I no longer
believe in