dearest america
on celebrating the fourth of july
dear america,
on the hills of history i trace your shadowy foundations and house of lies.
on a land that never belonged to you i see the frowning rocks of erasure and resilience.
dear america,
when will you learn about milwaukee?
when will you bow down to the strips of truth?
how can you stand still?
i might have grown up in the promised land,
it was never yours but bruce springsteen’s
who sang your underlying truths.
dear america,
on the slow of tulsa, i see your forgotten blue eyed hippie cowboys travelling onward
and your wide-eyed kansas girls in new york.
i see your perpetual income incompetence and the splattered promises you’ve screamed.
dear america,
on the airy rooftop shotgun envious night,
ron slater sells weed on your lands and wives.
your cars roll on and so do your lynrd skynrd records.
dear america,
have you ever looked in the eyes of the boy you’ve built?
have you ever traced a name on the Vietnam veterans memorial wall?
dear america,
you are everywhere, but were you ever what we’ve dreamt?
in the ringing lights of some nights you could say so.
on the still of the flying flag.
it’s a tyranny to celebrate you today.
it is your super strength to teach your fading nationalism and farmhouse bigotry.
dear america,
i lay pride in the distilled dream and shoulder high of the pacifist protesters.
in new york i‘ve seen the women fly and the lights blind the wong kar wai
night run bodega coffee food frenzy.
in texas i‘ve borrowed the towns of your angels,
and feathered on with my girl janis joplin.
i sat on the curb with richard linklater into oblivion.
i saw all that you could do to those who didn’t look like you.
how can i ever forget you america.
you and your sweetened americana.
your diners, pools and pointy bras.
shone on big hairdos and elvis slick backs.
your danny zukos and long skirts,
your boy soldiers and fallen towers.
your tragedies speak you senseless
you are doomed to repeat them.
dear america, this message won‘t send.
remember me america in your old cars
my canadian heart on the highway of college party anxiety
next to the tree huggers and old friends.
remember me, for i was born out of your old nurses and nervous moms.
happy birthday america. who the hell are you?
where is your independence but in your inevitable vanishing and blue fascism rise.
america, your hippies have taken over me. i just turned 20.
fuck your gun belts, double draw holsters and canonized boyhood.
your farm boys aren‘t happy.
america, how many guns will make it enough?
america, i cannot stand still on your presidential hills.
your founding fathers took grass, and so did the guys of the 1976 class.
america, hicks like benny o’donnell love your trucks, boots and anger for all the wrong reasons.
you will treat guys like randall "pink" floyd
like your star quarterback forever.
america, you have lost all your wars.
america, your malboro man has fallen,
your education system has dwindled down to a perpetual disaster.
dear america,
you will never be a commie.
america, pieces of my father live on in texas through his sisters’ eyes.
in the family boats and sunday services,
in their universal backyard and faith.
america, you are borderline.
your football players out of line
your touchdowns political conclusions.
dear america, please take a dizzying teacup ride and omit yourself from flying grand delusions.
soon you will be discovered.
learn to laugh.
independence day 2025, written from my bedroom in canada.
This article originally appeared in Volume 47, Issue 5, published November 10, 2026.
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