The Dark Warrior in the American Night
Mixed Media Drawing, 1993

Above America

The evidence is invisible through the azure haze of cottony comfort,
but ninety-seven black churches on fire
signal the advances of white arm and hammer.

No sickle here
asta la vista comunistas
because we have built on blood
not just the patriotic fervor of a red flag waving
like dreams without a warrant.

Here, night falls to burning crosses
that light a runway through the Bible Belt
and border patrol nightsticks
beating heads of illegals like the Fourth of July
complete a crescendo
of Lady Liberty bells opening for the Olympics.

From above, America is a Christmas diamond
glowing without warning in the rough.

Oh! Come
all ye faithful.
Oh! Come let us explode you.

I want to remain above America because she shines eclectic from afar.
I want to remain in the fragile buoyancy of suspended cocktail reality.
I cannot see the wounds from this vanishing point,
but the captain insists that we land.

 

On an airplane between Alabama and Texas