240 Years

Throw a punch before you leave

Rise up on your heels, peel their hands from your throat

And run

Run until you have enough room to charge


Raise your head from the ground

Slip your hand into the indent you left, and

Map the cities hiding in the soil

Bury a dime from your pocket

Stand up, and run away



Slither your soul through the gears of a cotton gin

Beckon cupronickel from the rings of trees

Why move when others can move for you?


Grab hold of the wall, and wait for the tremors to pass

Don’t look, don't listen

Because the ground has split

And the earthworms sing praises

To a sky they could never see.

Stay standing, or you will fall through

Stay standing, or you will fal-



Wake up.

You’ve been out for a while.


Pick at the leather of your shoes

Regift your cravat to the compost bin

Reach to your right

Feel. See.

The purple of mockery

The fabric of sunset clouds

Look for something better


Look for food

Run your tongue along the ground -

Don't bend down, it will come to you.

Remember the punch you threw

The crack of the nose, the ache of your hand

Pave yourself a road, and run


Aim a bat at the sky

Beat the air senseless for stealing your clouds



Yell at creatures without ears

It has been a while since you slept




Return to me.

Let yourself be swaddled

In the finest polyester

Poor thing, you're still shaking

I think it's time we took away your Benzedrine


Run your fingers through paint-stained bristles

Steal a post from your neighbor’s fence

And fashion yourself a sign

The others know

Your voice is gone

And your fists are bruised and loosely clenched

But even now, you scuff your heels against the dirt

And soon, you will charge

This poem is about: 
My country
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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