Breadcrumb #107
LENNY DELLAROCCA
sat in a corner by himself, herself
staring at the blood on the news
staring at his shoes, at her push-up bra
each with a whiff of Made Somewhere Else
God cast his spell on thee
wrong words in cheap automobiles on fire in cities brain damaged with
patriot suicide and consumer sodomy
Made in America is a rusted toy soldier
bleeding fake quarters from hypnotized eyes
You are here is a sign
Parade of wrecked tv shows burn across the screen
We, said Rick, are the walking dead
The corner is a place between walls
made in America
Him did it her a text sd meat me there
so we can vlog
The soldier seems to move
but it’s only a rivulet of rainwater gushing toward the drain
that moves her
Something in the way she moves
her bayonet her tin hand her mouth
about to say something perfect
Where was I made?
The zombies in fine, smashed automobiles
honk horns
Signs along the highways say
You are here
another lost ethnic letter to Santa asking for a 90-inch tv
a jolt of wireless Belong
made in America