Awake

It's the sleepless moments that define me: Shattered Unresolved to the illusion of affluence and prosperity. Addition involves numbers... Margins, profits, realty which Marginalize the prophets under the reality that the bottom line hangs Righteously Above those on the bottom. Color is never as important as the color Green Which stains and devours The red The white The blue Metaphor that is "unalienable" or "manifest destiny" or more clearly A "Dream" we are too comfortable living in and for and with While Suffering stirs just behind our sight "by the dawn's early light." It is 6:12 am. I am awake, again. Angry. Unapologetic. Un-American because, I feel, Deeply, The cries of humanity, Drowning Out the illusion of Nationality. I dream no more.