When this poem originally circulated on e-mail, it was headed "in response to the day." And the e-mail itself was titled "nine eleven."
A Day at the Mall
the implication i'm making
is that your vacation
outweighs the cost of all
impoverished situations
and i'm not trying to recreate the nation
but fuck the existing rotation
because today's skylines
are tomorrow's bilines
and same-signs are still politically
designed
to suffer on the side
of hypocrasy
because democracy is a million dollar bill
it's clinton
a minion
fucking trillions out of the american pocket
and back to the stocks that
bush and cheney
manipulate
to pro-bate
a room for rate
at the presidential estate
while death row inmates
still strip down
visiting sounds found
like chains
of lineage
in veins the state and federal
affiliates
instigate
to enslave
look as the war now rages
those stages
of an outsider's
metamorphosis
into that foreign metropolis
of big businesses
like his daddy
before him
killing
those who reside
in the middle east
so freed inside
by the god of modern christian
genocide
that side to side
of bible rides
where mangers sign
the dotted line of corporate
contract-life
one billion lives lost
for the cost
of a aristocrat-made billionare
who's stocks and shares
weren't acquired so fair
as the skin they're spent on
subjegating
and as a new dawn draws
the water for a bath of attack
in Iraq
president black bag
sits back
and watches
that
which he created
hoping his ass-hole is tight enough
to tight-thrill
that multinational stuff
that builds bills
and congress' butt
when it needs the dicks
to fuck
another mother from her son
another color
undone
by the status quo
that promo
of judicial insta-glow
promote your own
or you will know what it's like to
loan
your body for the building its sitting in
with ceilings
gripping bars called
prisons that listen
to the rape
and incision
of a mental
oppression passing
it's 1492 to present
session
all hail the perfection of a navigator's
aggressions
Native America
slated to stare at the
silence
of muted tongues
the violence
of troops
that stung
the flow of genes into oblivion
all suns since columbus
guns with bullets
as drums beat
the feats
of a grand nationalism
passed down through generations of racists
who's faces
bore through the store of winter meal
into a surplus
turning to dust
in the excess of reflex
that strong-arming
suggest
of countering progress
with a hyper-solstice
of murder for preventative infest
that bush
at his best
toy-chest
sold for less
in the military
conquest
who kills for less than the cost of the bill of rights
who's insight was
that the poor would refloor the wars
with warm bodies
while the rich stayed
home
to watch and criticize
across telephone and television
lines
how their ties
were lost
to the understanding of strategy
and sadly
just like in the Revolutionary
we're married to the symbolism of a flag flying the wealthiest's decisions
to own the glove
so the stove of colonialism
proves its synergizm
elite
a dominant fleet
firing steep
into the streets of los angeles
the boroughs of new york's
philanges
chicago, San Fran
and the Koran
the temples and
kiosk stands
where the woman and her man
like sands
fan
into fear
just another day at the mall
of U.S. conquest
the fall
of tears
now engineered
by those same
poly-tests
that tell you and i
who's eyes
are right
in the sight
of the stars and stripes and apple pie
of a falsified
god