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Replying to a comment on:
Bowling For Turpentine (Free verse) by horus8
I have the white Indian killer blues
Niggers up in trees, and Elvis Presley Shoes
I have a pristine Charlton Heston view
Thank god that I'm American
With ugly Gortex vests,
and an electric blue corvette
I have an endangered species for
a pet, and NOW you know that I'm American.
Betty Ford clinic for my bottle swing
on my fourth wedding ring
Mother fucker bet your ass I sing
"God it's good to be American"
As a poet, all my friends agree
Don't let me in on your security
blanket, I'll smother your fears
with a tree planted, to all the
dead Americans. Raised on
raisin bran in the Western heat.
God I can barely smell my feet
Now I ask you "wouldn't it be neat
to contemplate American?"
You could deny prayer in school on
one day, or just move to Wyoming and
kill a 'Gay'. You could shop at 'some'
Mart 'til bullets ricochet against what
is American. Punch drunk, a felon,
I face the night. A writer, so you know
I bite, and with no hooker to beat in sight
I'll sleep a pure American.
And if white collar was my forte
I'd calculate a richer way
To keep the ethnic poor at bay,
and embrace the real American.
So mother fuck you, you sod, you twit
You thought that you could purchase it?
After watching some commercial that
convinced you 'it' was Ace to be American.
But all of my friends, in jail, agree
It's not a social expectancy?
To see our Home of the free
returned to us Americans.
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