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Poetry of Issue #8        Page 5

AMERICA IN RETROGRADE

Afternoon
Ladies &
gentlemen
over on your
right the Land of
Liberty yes
the sun is
rolling over
on its back --
just
playing
possum
I guess --
it's summer,
nap time
in America
Bobby's
in a tin can
sister's
In a guinea-t
Brooklyn runs
hot as pizza
this time of year
Walk/Don't Walk
Touch/Don't Touch
but all the colors
of Manahatta run
together that's right,
Jack, no divisions
on Division Street
everybody making it
with everybody --
I sweat concrete
you sweat concrete --
What about that?
Who roots for the Dodgers
Who thumbed his nose
at LaGuardia (twice)
Who built the Verazzano
and all the other bridges --
Me! (& by the way
all my friends black
brown yellow red white
& green when we wasn't
beating the shit out of
the fascists built them too)
& we will do it again because
my country tis of bridges (not walls)
tall ones narrow ones long ones fat ones --
fuck you Donald & call me Walt --
i sing of bridges all day long, all day
long, & at night I pray
like my mother
taught me

our father who art in Brooklyn hallowed be thy Holy Handshake

brother to brother
son to son
daughter to daughter
shore to shore
and if California
shakes we will
just build us
more bridges
over every canyon
over every coast
out of ribbons of steel
Bridges! generation
by generation of
them (& every one
of us) bringing
us together,
American

No! do not tell me about walls.

This is no
America
in retrograde
pal

  George Wallace