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America, America 1
by David Spicer
America, America, why are you now the Twilight Zone,
bringing in no more hungry asylum seekers, like yesterday?
Collecting them, like brown and sepia copies on a Xerox?
Don’t damage us with dumps of plastic waste.
Evolve into a land without losers, without victors
for freedom, America, America. Enemies, unite,
get together, like the song sings, let’s get loose and tight.
Hatred, America, America? No more, let’s be a love salad,
ignore each other no more like estranged twins, or the rabid.
Jade, ruby, diamond, gold, let’s be a basket of quartz,
kaleidoscopic like our cities and towns, priceless as pearls.
Look, America, America, at yourself, open like oysters,
men without hoods, women strolling down colonnades of no need,
neighbors everywhere, friendly as affable ex-spouses, meeting
once more in movies, museums, at eclipses in lovers’ lanes
parked under the moon of no differences, untying knots,
Queen on the radio, six packs in the cooler, eating jambalaya,
relaxed as meerkats ready for naps, not imitating Icarus.
Sing, America, America, God Bless America, Home Sweet Home.
Tell me, country of dreamers and sinners, can you give
us hope for our children, look into each other’s hearts, with fondness?
Voodoo salesmen, don’t sell out the promises of a struggling Eden.
Wander no longer, America, America, lest everyone be damned,
xanthic as the hollow lawyers arguing, trembling in cowering Congress.
Yell, chant loudly as a struggling boat of apostates and believers,
zealous as manic salesmen, and sing, I love you, America, America.