A Perfect Patriot

Oxymoronic anathema, that such a citizen exists... hung up on country love and hating communists. Partial to red, she is, suspicious of the blue, white to her fascist core no other hue will do. His faith convenient for putting others down. His lord of pure intent to let him wear a crown while losers languish in the crush of poverty beneath the sun, beneath her pillow soft and lush reposes as she sleeps, a gun to dramatize his power, his might, his pride to be a self-made man, a worthy denizen who'd fight off any alien skin, or ideology, or clan. She would not mind the spirits kind who penetrate her dreams with soft suggestions that she find a better means to hold aloft his love of freedom, justice, sacrifice upon the altar of the pentagon festooned in stars and bars and nice distinctions all arranged to con each mother's sons and daughters in their zeal to pour their blood and that of every enemy upon the killing fields. ~