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    Saturday
    Jan212012

    Meamerican

     Meamerican

     

     Wounded dark congealed night

                                            Thick tissue black

    Scabbed with fight

    Up from the South

    Borne howling up

    Leg ripped, white eyed

    Out-alpha-ed shit-scared

    Flat-eared damage dog,

    Fighter.

    Meamerican:

    I bid you rip my heart

    I am the abuser

    And the lover both,

    Agape in horror

    Yet drawn to forge

    That silent secrecy,

    That slow Faulkner

    Destiny, a burial grown

    Monstrous with damnation

    And a wily urge to murder.

    Meamerican:

    From the weak I wring

    Blood/semen/milk

    And gasoline.

     

    This is American,

    This partaking of harm

    And plates of flesh

    And this slow dessert

    Of shame and love.

    What a peptic rhapsody

    My murders have been,

    Me-O-Meamerican.

    Or was it banjo twangs

    Of guilt beneath the guise of

    Violins?

    Touching lightly death’s face

    My own, others, the helpless

    Animals who did not outlive

    My self-absorbed misery;

    And yet I did not suffer--

    I lived righteous as any gas-guzzler

    Of the North who says he is no

    Murderer.

     

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