organic decay

What dark night of the collective soul is this?
where once thriving factories
are shut down cold
and stand and lifeless monuments from another history
--now not even remembered.

And what stony ground is this
where farmers weep broken dreams across the heartland
whose subsidies can no longer hope to heal this pride
eroded like wheat fields in broken earth
which drain and mix with acid rain and shine bright
from stream to shining stream.

What organic decay is this
where those working class hands rest idle
and tap tap tap against the brain in the despair
of human anxiety
and watch television for three thousand hours continuous
and eat mcdonald's cheeseburgers in living rooms across america.

O america, land of the pilgrim's tide
and entrepreneurs with bold ideas for a brave new world
land of opportunity and dreamers...

Well what dreams are these surfacing from an empty liter
of kentucky bourbon
who wobble on barstools for stability and
whose barely open eyes no longer yearn for
the homerun ball in the bottom of the ninth
or the pass on fourth and long

Who lost hope
when men of the high office body politic
caused the common heart to burn with passion
over those mighty words of liberty, democracy, and justice
and who delivered waste, decay, and the welfare state.

O America: behold the great whore of babylon
who sits on your hillsides and commits fornication
with the kings of monopoly capital.
and what men are these who walk in the shadows of such
corporate towers
who are driven to such acts of desperation in hunger's name
who no longer feel or see or hear or know

the words you so gently speak: liberty, democracy, justice.
they have become your end product america:
rational, strategic, calculating and watered-down robotic
instruments of movement.

What dark night of the collective soul is this
where no children dream.