Good morning, America
How are you today?
Are you still the fine country
You once were?
Do you still have your yodelers
And singers of charm
A cowboy in the saddle
For the day is long
Out on the prairie?
Don’t you yearn for those
Days
Simpler then,
Your heroes
The cowboys
Always on the trail?
You remember them, don’t you?
Celebrated in Hollywood
Celluloid dreams.
You remember their names, don’t you?
I needn’t repeat them here.
Some were real, though,
Weren’t they? You celebrated them too,
Didn’t you?
Of their deeds
Their deriding do’s.
Their criminal acts
Living by the Gun
Still.
Do you still celebrate those?
These cowboys
With their innocent air
Stetsons and Remingtons
Killed, didn’t they?
Airbrushed over
The Genocide did
Pushed out of mind
And conscience as well?
The Non Native Native Americans
Pushed to the fringe
American Apartheid, not?
Today you bury your heads
No longer held high
A vast nation
The envy of the World
No longer held.
Sodden
Wet
Drenched
Your spirit
Gone.
What happened to you
My once bright beloved
Country?
A bright star in the sky.
You no longer hace
Pleasant dreams.
No longer are you hail and cheerful
But surly and dour
Each morning to greet each other
With a snarl.
Do you live, America
Or are you dying?
Tjhe American Dream
A Nightmare.
The Ugly American
Grotesque.
Malcolm D B Munro
Monday 23 September,2019
Filed under: art, Culture, German literature, history, Literature, Media, Memoir, mythology, poetry, politics, songs, stories