New American Elegy

Long live the dead we prop ourselves up on,

The cane we pass off as our leg.

Long live the gods that money trickles down from,

The temples made of bars and shaved heads on foreign shores

That we build to please them.

Long live rallies, the riots,

The danger that comes to those who call themselves our saviors

When we organize.

Forget the tyrants that we designed ourselves not to become.

Forget the hope symbol that the hopeless used to flock to

Forget the pledge you repeat every day,

Think only of the one nation under that god,

And long live the new America.

Posted in response to the challenge Leadership on the Left.

wph

VT

17 years old

Poetry

By wph

Cameron Winter

1)
I think that when he looks at pianos,
The keys are stained and worn in
With grooves and dents,
In the shapes of his fingerprints,

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Poetry

By wph

The Eldest Game

ghosts of peo / ple hiding in this house / they grew up in and left / hiding under tables in clo / sets long thin men pale pe / ople dark people all hidden / separately in the same room / waiting for the seeker to finis / h counting endlessly endl

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Poetry

By wph

Portrait of a Man Looking Back

He can see kids glowing in the kitchen,
Hands sticky with sweet gossip,
Bright, beautiful little selves smudged by the window that he,
A cracked old statue has broken his hands and fingers by banging on,

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