This is the land of the free.

It snakes through cities and farms,
Growls in parking lots
And goes like lightning down highways
Choking and spitting on itself
Organs serenade eachother
In a wheezing harmony.

I am the bobbing head of a poet.

I want to work
Diagonally
Scratch deep thoughts into your concrete
Make a living off of party favors
And help you get on your feet

I know what you need--
I know what I wanna be
Is a flag, rather than a buttress or beam
And you could say I'm arrogant
But that's the life
I want to I lead.