Wednesday, December 9, 2009

It Votes

Aamerican Ddream

You have 36 years left. There’s some truth to this when you look at the dead ant on the ground and you wake up and you’re staring at the same pack of cigarettes that’s been there for fucking

Years ago you told yourself that you were different, and then you turned on the television and found out that you weren’t. Another character that defeats you with a laugh track. And then you think that somehow, someway

A large gopher wakes you up in this desert out on the side of Los Angeles. You greet the mammal with a grin of omelet and cheese…

The mind reels and you realize that you’re sunbathing on the top of an Arbys in Tallahassee.

There’s no reason to be scared, you’ve dreamt this before. You know that your dreams mean nothing.

There’s no reason to mean anything out in the American dream. Dead, rotten, exhausted feeling that you think might turn you around into something more savage and true to your human

Existence out on a dead high plain. You like living on dead rat. You are now more mankind than the founding fathers who built this wreck.

And a wreck it is. Sweeping down, barreling through dead woods, clipping branches and dead leaves: this is your country.

Attack an ant. Play reality with black people, sexuality and drug use – pretend that you accomplished something.

There’s another culture to rip off. It’ll turn up in the mailbox with a “Have you seen me” title and you’ll laugh at them and then try to emulate them and notice that you’re

On trial, once again. You’re a celebrity and it’s your day off. You think to yourself “How did I molest a polar bear in broad daylight and why am I wearing parachute pants?”

You’ve made it and it’s time to prove that you’re not skin of white batter stuck in a pair of earrings. You’ve made it and it’s time to level yourself off in front of the housewives, black plants, and white trucker drivers that want an excuse to put another black plant behind bars.

You look at the jury and realize they may be against you. It’s time to tell the truth: you have no idea where and what your talent will do next.

You lose wind and suffocate on glass. You’re losing ground to a DA and a guest star.

There’s no reprieve and you go to the chair for your sins.


Veins of glass break among the curls of white brain and you scream in shock as your body is ridden by electric current – whadda rush.

Wake up in fecal matter and realize you’re now an Appalachian blueboy, stuck on your sister and eating hamburger helper for protein.

You tell yourself this is not happening, but it is and you’re falling into yet another American dream.

Gain courage in the fact that the white man still holds court. Fall asleep and land as a Polish immigrant in Chicago and fall silent in some crack house you couldn’t imagine.

Take a hit and wind up Chinese in a telephone booth. You’re calling your mother and talking in Cantonese and you can’t even understand it.

Telephone and police operator come down on you and demand change and you

Cringing in the night, you’re now some Mexican man that needs help with a tire.

How did you find yourself here?

You try to pull a hitch, but no one wants to pick up a degenerate Mexican in the middle of the night – especially you.

You search your mind for true identity:




East Indian

West Indian

Native American


There’s nothing you can do. Look down at your skin and give up: you’re American.

You’re American and you have no culture.

You’re an American.

You’re something between a ragweed and a ring of Saturn. You’re described as being an acid or a base.

A zombie or some street wandering for a name.

A brain.

Gear down on some idea of what it’s like to own a boat, kill a cop, bend a straw – you are fucked.

Welcome to America.

You will get a packet of bank debts, television shows to watch, and the best restaurant for puking up your lunch.

To our left is Asia, to our right is Great Britain.

This country was born in 1776.

If you look to your right, you’ll see Great Britain sucking fumes.

If you look to your left, you’ll see Asia propelling us forward.

If you look down you’ll see a turbine crushing the West and inflating the East like a balloon we threaten to pop.

This is a plane and you’re on it.

This is the downward spiral they all warned you about.

There’s no way to avoid it.

You’ll see in good time.

There’s no nice way to put this: we’re out of peanuts.


We’re crashing

We are were

We are so not “we”


Kill the French and rape them of their wine and cheese.

They did this.

The British must be stopped at New York.

The Indian are taking our jobs.

The Mexicans are taking our jobs.

The Chinese will soon attack.

North Korea descends like an umbrella of denial and we all fall down.

House of cards comes up Jokers and we lie

Lie dead

Lying dead

Just desserts taste like ozone and we choke on policy.





We’ve lost again.

Struggle to suture the arm.

Arm in hand.

Wake up to another pack of cigarettes.

You’re Polish-African-German-Vietnamese and you hate the Chinese because in a fortune cookie you got a slip of white paper that told you what you really are.


Graveyard of what you were.

Dead possums litter the road as you drive on.

Sign post says “which way”

And you drive on.

Drive on.

Through mini malls and wooden convenience stores.

Through the night trees you see elk making plans to run into your car at 100 miles an hour


You press the gas and throttle into Idaho

You ride South Dakota into New York

Slam the breaks at the dead hulk of Twin Towers

Say a prayer for John Wayne and other wastes of American idealism

A cop breaks you off as you say a prayer for people you never gave a shit about

Walking down the street you see memorials to the dead nineties

Unrealistic dreams bubble forth and you realize that you’ll never be happy again

Undead start up companies and dot coms

Friendly investor’s day trading dreams on some starving Puerto Rican’s check

And/or back

Wireless laptop opens up a Google search on “How did this happen?”

A homeless person asks you for change and you

Completely ignore

The fact that you’re in New York now, and your dream of

What did you think was going to happen?

It’s the fourth of july

You throw a firecracker into the hole that was the

Dual penis of what you thought was safety

Banks collide

Shattered Steel

Falling bodies

Ddead Bbodies

Sshattered Ssteel

Bbanks Ccollide

The land of the informed?

You’re more stupid than before.

Wake up, America

You’re vulnerable

You’re next

There’s a bully looking down on you

And you can’t own up for this

And that

And you whimper in shame

Because you’re American

Because you know how it feels

Because you felt it deep when

Punching holes in your back

Beating bruises on your skull

Wipe your brow


Walk as dead

Walk among the dead

Rise once again

Rome is a rumor

Hollywood is a reality

We’ll stomp the buggers yet

But, it’ll take some foreigners to build more planes






Wake up to another pack of cigarettes.

The city is still on fire

And America

You realize

Is the opposite of safe

You are now the American dream

The culmination of fear

And you’re finally real now

Turn off the TV

You’re finally home


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