Breadcrumb #107


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

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