Hey guys, finally, some poetry from ol' Christopher Rufflebottom. This is one of two poems I wrote on the fourth of July. Happy birthday, America, you fuck! Long live rock and roll! To read the other companion poem to this, check out: bohococo.blogspot.com. Baklava!
birthday: America
it’s my country’s
birthday today.
bless you in five ways, oh
America:
bake those apples in clove and
dump cinnamon on
their hides;
catch a horse and attach
beer bottles to its
black mane;
tumble a firework stand in
dust and run it
raw with red meat;
heckle a spectacle and kick it
over
a car tire;
be bold and shoot your gun into the
supple sky.
there-in now we all
feel awkward
and just,
we have baseball and we
have sex and
we have
our
violence and our architecture.
happy birthday, America!
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