The Darkness of Dawn’s Early Light

America,

land of the free,

home of the incarcerated

Where we pretend not to

notice the contradiction

America,

where we cling to 

the second amendment

while firing rubber bullets 

and tear gas at the first

America,

where we continue

to idolize slave owners

and cruel colonizers,

but laugh at the thought

that racism might still exist

America,

home of the homeless,

those cast aside,

not worthy of a

fucking sandwich

There are too many

hungry billionaires to feed,

mouths bloody

from the carcasses

of the former middle class

So we avert our gaze

from the poor, the hungry,

the sodden souls

trapped beneath the heavy boot

of society’s indifference, 

leaving their bodies 

to slowly rot in the street

America,

hating our neighbors

while cradling our Bibles tightly 

like the elusive embryos

we will cease to care for

the moment they make 

their watery exit

from the birth canal

America,

where the claim to be the greatest

is left conveniently untangled 

from the messiness of reality

Written July 29, 2020