Let our voices be heard as the Negro protesters screamed for their civil freedoms 

we screech for again and again 

for social equality 

Urban streets with their underground grimy sewers, swarming like bees of refugees

Them filthy immigrants, who dare enter our womb, 

bringing their crusty old monarchs and fairytales 

Every day the news, blearing of mass shootings, and inconsequential crimes of thieves 

America has not been great since He stole the crown from the British Empire 

America, leaders with extremely dubious intentions all too clear to the public eye 

Untrustworthy, full of hatred, breeds fear fear fear and madness 

America, who closes the door behind their devastation 

I am on one side of the closed door, and see through the keyhole 

a light of gas tanks and burning stakes

He has confiscated the key  

I see, beyond the explosions, orphans crying in their sleep from across oceans 

Just beyond the edge of the holy crusts of forgotten lands—only America is important—there be:

Those old white conservatives demanding their prejudices as truths  

(What of the females, the wilting sunflowers—them dogs, who slave day and night) 

(What of the men—transparent in all but white—who search and search and find themselves discarded) 

America, what of the people (what of the children) 

I walk the highways and hear in the asphalt, 

echoes of starvation and the homeless passing by 

Here where we pay 20 dollars and 99 cents for a shirt of individualism 

Bomb not Hiroshima nor Nagasaki but all the world!  

An explosion 

Explode! with America on top 

Europe, her countries, they fear us.  Asia, her countries, they are already consumed. 

Africa and islands of people unseen, what can they do but live to tomorrow. 

Mexico--be bitter--like always and Canada is our neutral honeymoon 

Lives, lives, lives, we keep living—we will survive even though you may not 

America, we don't want to go to war 

We don't want to be witness to the falsely just acts of murder and famine 

I hear rapid gunfire in the distance and wish to drown my ears in vomit  

This is not our America. This bigot of America. 

The few or the many does not represent us all 

My voice is small, but I am one with every other small voice 

Salvation for hope