American, Columbian man
And women
And all between the formed Earth of one awe in God,
“American body,
May you be cooled,
May the dog days of the final moon in your Roman clock tick
no more,
May your fires be dampened in the Fall,
May your body always be replenished,”
“This is a prayer from your navel,
Your own son,”
“To the placenta guardian
Standing naked on your African sister’s shore
With crystalline mind
And bearing a wild power at heart
To desist all suffering in the subsistence war on your
open-ended land,”
“May your waste touch the ground and seed our forthcoming
generations,
May your remains in life bring the mortality of Spring around
to a recollected season of renewed glory from the center of your minutest, most
peculiar being,
May you bask in endless sunlight until the end of all ages
births a newfound ring in the broken upheaval of Earth from your well-fed chest
of enlightened air,
May your classical vibrations transition with tradition’s
sacred mold in the weary blistering façade of an edgy mirror on which to gaze,
reflecting on the welfare of your unborn children,
Americans,
May you re-imagine the Columbian war with un-followed eyes,
May you move in secret with Arab tongues into an
interdependent universe of compassion and recognition of the human disease in
all its greatness,
May you reason between fingers and over delicate palms the
ransom of a foreign woman’s dramatic responsibility, in the troubled sunken
rest of your enlightened freedom,
May your prisons of shame open wide to reveal health and the
play of a cultural fruition, a boom in the renaissance of oceanic love between
all,
May your universe end in the silent need to walk in the
tempest of your Earth’s beauty and be swallowed by her drunken New England sea foam teeming at the edge of civilization
and meaning
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