America is No Freeland

America is no Freeland
Strike that notion from your head.
All its myths of
Wealth and
Prosperity
Built on graves of Indians
Long past dead.

The poor people are
Downtrodden,
Crying out in pain
Drowned out by T.V. static
While the rich cup their ears in disdain

I do not call myself
An American
To me the word is foreign,
It holds no sway over my eyes,
Because to be American is to be rich--
To spit on the poor
And bust their lips;
Piss on the fires
Of their dreams;
And satiate my cruelty
By all means.

I picture myself
Walking, stopping, running
Past the houses of Beverly Hills.
Armed with matches and some fuel
I burn it all to hell.
The gilded houses
Of our celebrities
Go down in flames.
Their obituaries made the headlines--
I laughed, I danced, I sang.

This union is disjointed
I see no reasoning left to make,
The ignorant shoppers copulate
On their cell phones and their meds,
I see no reason to celebrate.

So take this torch why don't you?
And burn this land anew.
Light the oils of their dollars.
Cremate the rich sinew.
Suck the marrow from their bones
Crush the fragments with your rage.
And when it's all and done
Smash the eagle's golden plume.

I curse the American dream
And what the puppets love to say
Alas! But no one cares
While the pigs come out and play.