Today america and I woke up on two very distinctive sides of the bed. I hadn't quite noticed the extreme until a series of events unfurled me to my inner emotions on said nation state. It was the exposure to "america; love it or leave it" bumper stickers, "god bless america" church signs, and of course the ever present reminder and unrelenting flap of all the overhead flag parephenalia; those left flying by a crippling nationalism.
Im concerned that my poorness at being an american is not reversing itself, but at a further glance, im not trying very hard at all.
When all these fine people are bent over in the extacy of song, screaming out with teary eyes the fruitful nature of purple mountainous plateus, I find it best to laugh in private. Palms tight to chests, lips rigid with an eerie drawling dialect, the oblivious certitude clear in their vacant eyes, I can't be witness.
America and I, sepperate sides of the bed, and if told of my perdicament the average shlep would ask me just what the problem is with his fine republic.
How can I respond. This goliath is still an indidual with a pretty face for the upper crust and a metal hand for the rest. How can I tell him that america and I are on sepperate sides because we cannot stand the look, smell or taste of one another, someone we have spent all of our lives with.
How can I tell the plebe that I was abused as a child by this very america, and as I grew, I grew only regret through such a partners scorn. It was an arrange marriage, a slavery of prostitution, fodder for the cannons.
It's not like you would believe me, im not trying for recruits; I just need to know america is put aside for the time being in a place that it cannot hurt me. Can you blame a guy for trying?
Lets work things out in the morning, america says. Can't take it back that easily, but sometimes its just better to shut up an close your eyes. It hurts less when your eyes are closed and you can't see your body twist with every strike.
God.. bless it or leave it, im ready for a big change.
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