Tuesday, June 28, 2016

poem of the day 06.28.16

spitting cherry seeds at a rest area
in central pennsylvania

i am
hoping to hit someone’s big huge car
with an oval-shaped seed

as mini tanks with names like navigator
or suburban come driving by too fast
down the narrow strip of pavement

this rest area is packed with slap happy families
doing up america for the weekend

so many people are in red white and blue
or t-shirts for the military

you’d think it was the fourth of july
or an impromptu republican convention

where do these individuals come from?
i wonder, every time i see this spectacle

watching as true patriots
with pasty flesh and violent bumper stickers

pull mammoth coolers from the beds
of over-sized trucks

carrying them two-by-two
toward bird-shit laden picnic tables

as if this rest area off of I-81 were paradise incarnate

where have i gone wrong
in this vast and ponderous land?

sweaty and half dead
devoid and any and all nationalistic verve

as the dark cherry juice runs down my chin

and i miss another RV emblazoned
with eagles and liberty bells

careening by carrying people with dull eyes
and thick wet mouths of democracy

toward the unclean pissers
flat soda pop and stale potato chips

their very own valhalla in central pennsylvania

where is my nirvana? i ask myself
as i daydream empty dark bars
on sunny summer afternoons

or the blinds closed and the a/c on high
in mid-morning beds on work days
where i know i’m calling in sick

as greasy sandwich wrappers and coke cans
lie prostrate in the brown grass

like freedom’s flag limp in the  gray haze

while the people laugh
and sing along to archaic rock songs

as anxious dogs  stand chained to trees
trapped and panting in the sun
barking their feeble dissent

the only real sign that this ritual is dubious
a con job at best


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