Say your name.
Try to speak as clearly as you can.
You know everything gets written down.
Nod your head.
Just in case they could be watching.
With their shiny satellite.
And this is just a piece of what I’ve been working on for sometime now and hope that at least a readable rough draft will be done by Tuesday, otherwise I’m fucked:
Let this poem anger you. Let it piss you off to the point you would rather me be dead than to write it. Let a bomb like god drop down upon us and wipe the slate clean. America, there is a song in my head. A song, America, that tiny children are taught:
My country, ’tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
[tabbed] Of thee I sing;
Land where my fathers died
Land of the pilgrim’s pride,
From every mountain side
[tabbed] Let freedom ring.
Let freedom ring, America.
I’m still working on it and for those of you who don’t remember my 2006 Ginsberg-esque poems, “America,” and “Complete & Utter Bullshit,” then you might not understand what I hope to achieve with this piece, which is more of a lyrical essay (or at least will be sooner or later) than an actual poem. I’m doing something different with this piece, however. I’m adding in quotes from other popular pieces including Emma Lazarus’ “The New Colossus:”
Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearing to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door.
And a quote from the Nine Inch Nails song, “Zero Sum:”
Shame on us doom from the start, may god have mercy on our dirty little hearts.
I’m crafting what I have already from the two aforementioned poems and adding in a few theatrical stunts – two that I’m thinking of is burning a small flag and ripping out pages from the Bible and mimic wiping my ass with the pages. I will do my very best to rile the listeners with this piece and hope to only perform it once and never have to think of it again.