THE  27Th  EDITIOn

beautiful

American Dream—

conjured

 

by starry eyes

blinded

by spotlights’ wake.

 

it tugged at them

like puppets

on a string—

 

a siren’s song,

luring them

across the waves.

 

the puppeteer

takes the stage.

he winds

 

the strings

around

bobbing throats—

 

fresh fish

to filet.

skin bruises

 

but never breaks.

oh, America,

you glorified,

 

sanctified

pyramid scheme.

I see you now.

 

towering posters

illuminate:

“the land of dreams.”

 

well…

not for me.

your director,

 

your cast,

we never fit

the bill.

 

so to the wings

we are shamed

while roses

 

accent your scene.

and we bleed,

we toil,

 

we are

the sandbags

that fall

 

for the promise

of center stage.

yet here we stand,

 

promises

curtailed

by curtain call,

 

waiting

on a massacring

Dream.