Overheard at Booth 3: America the ...

From sea to shining sea
Is an ocean between you and me
Purple mountains' majesty
Keeps me devoid of empathy
These flaming amber waves of grain
Sweep away whispers of others' pain
These beautiful, spacious skies
Dull my senses with exceptional lies.
And alabaster cities gleam
These white-washed tombs of shattered dreams.
Where God has long since shed His grace,
There is only apathy in its place.

From a notebook, dated 2019-0514

Reworked 2021-0425

From sea to shining sea,
An ocean between you and me.
Purple mountains' majesty
Devoid of all empathy.
These flaming amber waves of grain
Deny five centuries of pain.
These beautiful, spacious skies
Dull my eyes with hollow lies,
And alabaster cities gleam
These white-washed tombs of shattered dreams.
Where God has long since shed His grace,
Leaving apathy in its place.

Overheard at Table 4: Children of War

[For American Leaves]

We children of The War
weaned on Forbidden Planet,
raised on Summers of Love
           and moon landings and
           Kent State and
                             My Lai
                     (oh my!) we
look around us now
         and see ourselves in
every reflective surfaces - these
         old eyes




MR
2012-0920
[this is possibly just a fragment, or at least an idea interrupted]

Overread at Booth 4: A Selection from "American Leaves"

So I had this in my journal, that is, I was writing it in my journal, and this is what I got...

It is to you I make my desolate way,

America, imbued with the 

               sunny stillness

of gathering and reaping of

              that which you have not sown.

Your towers are pilloried,

Your temples are in vapors!

You have cast away any

               pretense of true faith

for some dime-store

               snake oil religion.

...

And at that point, I was interrupted, as usual, by my wife, who was working on an email to her boss and needed me to check her spelling.

MR

2020-0113