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poetry about being yourself
this is US
I am a screaming bisexual banshee
a baroque princess
your pyx
I am an erratum
I am the second hand
I am a monochrome Mongolian,
making meat for the American table.
I am a hangnail,
a muted thunderstorm.
I am toxic, erbium, uranium,
heavy water, nuclear waste.
I am the child of the golden arches,
Superman's little girl.
I am a dodecahedron
one face towards the sky,
one to the ground,
two eyes on England, four on the
Middle East, and the other fourteen
eyes on myself.
I am looking into the American mirror,
tell the administration, Bill Gates, Enron,
England, Russia, the postal service, NATO, the E.U., someone...
to fix the goddamn thing so it doesn't tell the truth anymore.
I am for the N.R.A.,
against it, crying for freedom-
dead of a semi-automatic,
in the hands of a 16-year-old,
Trained in military school,
riflery division.
I am food stamps, welfare, layoffs
and cardboard signs that read:
"please help food, job, money. God Bless"
I am not proud.
--nomercytheysay
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