Sounds of America by Christopher A. Lane

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listen, hear the sounds of America:  native sons like trains in the night crisscrossing, applesaucing the melting pot boils over and human nature is king:  sunshine and suits tramping along from starlight to headlight crazy city song, sipping hallucinogens, leaping from frail skin to immortal brilliance, so much tender meat laid out on the block:  hay bails gathered o, America, for spacious skies, the grain is in the barn, Arlo and company have retired rocking chairs on the porch, facing west leaving rain dogs to wander wet streets, where jazz spills into the alleys like mother's milk, feeding and freeing and blues, flipside southside, tapping feet and heads like dashboard dolls wagging:  yes, yes, it is true, from sea to shining sea hearts in tatters, remembering not to forget, America, hardboiled lady, making ob"throw the bum out", talking to herself, old lady, sick-headed lady, America the beautiful

Contact Christopher A. Lane at: ShamblinGait@aol.com