War Poem

I am an American

Red like arterial spray

Washing worn out

Down mountaintops

Snaking through grassy plains

Passed the old gold claims

Fast like a miner’s cart

That has gone off track

And when they said

There is no going back

I breathe in

Like an inner city desperation

Like a hit of crack

We have friends too though

Spanning time like skipping records

On a hot summer day

When the wax is melting