A Country For All

So what country did you make? Is it a penthouse, or a rented cubbyhole in the same sky high city where the difference is the size of your hold-out that can also peer out. When the TV is silent and sullen do you wonder what other country you belong to? Do you risk getting shot for just looking out of a window, or do you lollygag over fine wines and does your bowtie spin when you grin? Do the people guard you or impinge upon your sovereignty with their greasy knives and forks? Did you register as a foreigner with the borderless guard dogs? Did your country come with a trash compactor and a rattrap? I also come from a land as isolated as yours. I travel incognito as a stranger known to be unwanted until kidnapped. Did you choke twice over an olive in your dirty martini? Did you vow to stay far away from the drug-dazed and only send out or call in for your own addictions? Does your country salute you for having regular bowel movements, for not clogging up the toilet bowl? I, like you, wrote my own constitution it is written on an old postcard that I sent to myself. Are you a founder or a spy snooping from an eye in the sky? I may visit your county; feel free to borrow my nose hair trimer, my first born. We, the Emperors of just enough space should ratify unworkable treaties, we may need to test the limits of a mutual hostility. When you turn the TV back on do you, like me, wonder what country this is that hates us from afar? Blow smoke, smoke blow, suck when necessary, bruit a patriotic vapor into a rattling air conditioner, never surrender.