Having slept in again, in and on,
in a haze we wake, rise,
look as one on war, despair
and a thunderous applause.
Our cities roar in a civil ruin.
Many brace themselves, or link arm
in arm, as at work (lost in a cooked ink)
I ask what occurs in me
that can lash me so low
when all say join in and agree.
As soon as our watching “A…A…Ayes”
all have it, I say I can’t breathe.
In my car, awash as on a main
divide, I am choosing to miss
my exit; I am sailing home
on a sour air; I am looking hard
for a song on a station I know existsThe poem is an anagram of the names of fifty United States of America. All of the letters that make up the names of the fifty states have been used, once and only once, in the composition of this poem. No letters have been added and no letters have been left out. The title, section title, and section dividers are not to be considered part of the anagram.
and know I cannot find.
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return to SHAMPOO 37
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