Let us sing of America, the land of gross consumption;
sing of streets not paved with gold, but lined with the commerce
no one needs or truly wants, but is purchased to better
pass the day – rebate, bonus in hand, watches bought
that remind us we have nowhere to be, nothing to do
until the office has need of us, or the bills come due.
Or better yet, let us empty the streets and sit
on the curbs, lighting fuses and running,
worshipping the fount of enlightened governance
with silver pops, purple trills, electric yellow shrieks.
Shall we sing America? No, not unless it’s the seventh inning,
though we may show america at any time,
watch america, vote for what we see and hear
and make america a home for our empty heads and hearts.
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