An American Street

here is the dawn of dreams

when the dogs wake to the stretch of light

reddening lazily

in swelling clouds

this is the empty lane

waiting for the oil splattered cars

to stir their rubber feet

and prod onto the painted asphalt

stretching beyond view

here is the dawn of dreams

the bank of america cash card dreams

the playstation, xbox and HDTV dreams

the swimming pools and chrome steel BBQ dreams

dreams worth the dried dust of graveyard blood

here is the street

the American street

where children will play

with shiny occidental crafted bicycles




the spokes were hubcaps

and wheels powered

by German pistons

here is the dawn of the red, white and blue tomorrow

the place where angels

grant wishes for the chosen

the American chosen

above and beyond

those so far away

those who sit empty

and invisible

poster children lost

behind the Sunday comics

here is the street of plenty

of empty

of want

of opulence

the street of contradictions

of purpose and desire

here is the street

of American desire

walked by daughters

who were once loved

without compensation

now entrepreneurs of flesh

walked by old men

slow and deliberate

trying to remember the direction

from which they came

walked by blue suits and pin stripes

brisk and brash

slashing through the dream of synthetic cash

selling America in derivative lots

here is the street of American desire

big brother to the world

schoolyard bully to the world

mentor, lover

arrogant, egotistical,



empathic, self-centered,

the welcomer of victims

the creator of victims

here is the street where you live

where I live

where your father and mother live

where your children will live

all the sins of yesterday and today

flushed clean with the spray of the sweeper

the sweet smell of a false rain

rising from its rotating brushes

as it ambles the empty lane.

#poet #poetry

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