Sunday, December 20, 2009

Asleep Post Manifest Destiny

America, my dear
Do not fret the forgetten
they make love to the soil
steeped in your nostrils
digging through Earth
forgotten fingernails to finding
your hidden dreams.
Your genocides.

You will sleep well tonight
In the membrane of our latitudes
Blankets of Toxic
Woven Tendrils
Will shield you from the cold
Dead truth.

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