THIS IS AMERICA

THIS IS AMERICA

endless, unceasing miles and miles of concrete and asphalt and tar stretch to the edge of sight
little orange lanterns hang above the sick metropolis of grassless, shadowed pavement

run-down houses and washed-out signs, neon flickers and weathered tin roofs,
        bars on the windows
manicured lawns and fresh paint, new cars and housing covenant enforcers,
        (fake) wrought-iron gates
sprawling monuments to consumption, wide walkways and a hundred doors for
        clothes and sunglasses and lingerie and makeup and games and perfume and skateboards

sunrises burn reddish through low-hanging brown clouds of perpetual refuse cast skyward
horizons disappear in the tangled pseudo-grid of power lines
another construction project belches grit and sand and half-digested oil toward
        heaven

THIS IS AMERICA

endless, unceasing miles and miles of meadow and forest and brush stretch to the edge of sight
little white lanterns hang above the sweet metropolis of grassy, shadowed plains

quiet brooks and sun-stroked forest, high mountain lakes and treeline
        bare rock covered in snow
tumbling rapids and sweeping plains, lakes like inland seas and humidity
        magnolias blooming early
sprawling monuments to majesty, narrow paths and a hundred sights of
        wildflowers and lightning and caves and swans and redwoods and grasshoppers and stars

sunrises burn reddish through low-hanging white clouds of endless sea cast skyward
horizons disappear in the beautiful semi-rhythmic fall of cleansing rain
another herd of deer dashes along track and stream and dappled forest bed under
        heaven

THIS IS AMERICA
THIS IS AMERICA
THIS IS AMERICA