America

America I was nothing and then you took some more
America I wanted nothing from you, just a galloon of ice cream
That's a lie, I wanted everything TV promised me, like prom.
I didn't go to my prom, because years of you made me lonely.
I wanted some change, a dime, a change, but my mind says, just sleep, here's an eyemask.
America why won't you stop the graffiti on my moon?
When I went to England I was held accountable for all of you, America,
like your jaunts in the desert and bad pop music leaking out of the BBC. "Hollaback Girl" was not my fault.
My stomach is almost flat, if I keep sucking in, but I'm nauseous anyway.
America, God has left us, Tony Kushner said so, and I believed him, and he said you were still good,
capable of angels, and I believed him,
but now I found that you've left too, gone away into your own desert
cacti and reservations and methamphetamine.
America this is not what I expected. I am a child disappointed, aware, suddenly, of the fallibility of parents.
America you were wrong, and you kept your secrets from me. You told them to Katie and Sarah and Amanda and Karen and Lucy, but the grapevine never reached me.
America I expected better from you. More.

I went to a concert on October 29th, 2004, and shouted "Not four more" like an idiot, jumping up and down, trying to catch the guitar pick or a setlist, as if they mattered -
They matter, are the only things that matter, are substitutes of what should matter
America I did endless orgo problems to try and forget about you, to Miles Davis and January rain.
Where were you America, when I could barely breath some nights, and so pushed you out of my mind?
America I still want to dream, manifest destiny was mine too, and I am sorry if you don't think so.
America as soon as you wake up you reach for a cigarette, but
when will you wake up next to me and look at me with just a smile?
America, let me go please, please.
Not one more word about Tian'anmen, you hear, until you explain to me what happened at Kent State.
America, Jurassic 5 was playing when he pushed into me
America were you listening? Can you listen now? Now, now now.

I know this is perverse.
I know I can't speak in sentences anymore, just proper names that are not proper, that are hallowed but hollow.
America, 09 F9 11 02 9D 74 E3 5B D8 41 56 C5 63 56 88 C0. So sue me.
America I have a string of Christmas lights up on my wall, but I don't believe in Jesus, I used to believe in the eight-fold path but now I'm just on getting through the day.
America do you know when Allen stopped speaking? When Sal and Dean became a lie? America I am trying to find the you that they found.
America I found hope the day I got out of the subway station in Times Square and there were people chanting and marching. Why weren't you there with us?

Were you napping at 6 pm? You need to stop with the all-nighters, planes overhead, infrared vision.
America pick up the phone, I don't care for leaving messages.
America I still want to be a roman candle, I want drumsticks and drunken kisses, I want to cut right through you and make love in a million motels in Oklahoma, $50 a night and some s'mores.
Don't give me Zoloft, Zoloft gives me seizures. Don't give me Lipitor because that shit is just maintenance.
America I know you're hiding methadone in your Arizona lilies, and I am not happy. I thought maybe if I could draw carbon rings without looking I could get somewhere, watch the orange-red glow of an annular eclipse in peace.
America my friend says "Fuego fuego fuego! Los Yanquis quieren fuego!", and you can't even look him in the eye.
Look me in the eye and tell me the headlines on TV.
I know how bad it is, but I want you to say it.
America I'm waiting for you.