Addendum
We were born into an amazing experiment.
The music of the anthem has no boundary,
no sworn allegiance, no nation save
the one we lower into its dying body.
The opposite of a gun is wherever you point it.
They researched my offenses in the penal code.
O hopeless romantic, milkweed is in flower,
and this is the closest you’ll get to embrace.
How strange this life is mine, and not another.
Husband me. I have vocal chords enough
for screaming, enough for veritable mime.
This is the part where I take your hand
in my hand and I tell you we are burning.
This is the part where, after the bar fight,
the food fight, the gladiator defeat,
we gaze together at the screen
of calm abstraction.
After reconciliation, consensus.
After appeasement, the coup.
Memory, stay faithful to this
moment, everlasting bruise.
This life is all afterlife, all fresco
painted by a meticulous hand.
Let me touch your rough-hewn skin
before its transformation.
Let me be the first to greet you
when you sit at the right hand of our God.