Big Bridge #10

An Open Letter to America


Larry Sawyer


Dinosaur's Lament

where will I see you standing on the lips of a cannon
   no words uttered will return to me my rhyme
cities are sleeping bombs are busy dropping
   forever they will be darkly flying
and I've decided that I'm northward moving
   into a new pair of pants come summer
all the shit rivers of the world lay freezing
   and all the fathers of the families of all time
are my curators here in the museum of a guilt ridden mind
   and a beautiful flower of exhaust from a rusted-out Fiat
has the gentle power to destroy the Parthenon
   can I simply take a meteor shower this morning
to wash clean my grime of belonging to such a sad generation
   like all generations doomed to suffer and fail
will someone there translate chocolate
   or give back the gift of tobacco
return these stolen lands to their ghosts
   Egyptian watches on a street corner memory
and the sphinx is a man on Fourteenth St.
   to see it all happen how the voyage began
and what became of that whale
   the last canto called earth now fatuously ending
don’t thoughts jump synapse watch the sin tax
   for we’ve inherited a tennis shoe revolution
moorings are slipped, understand the real gyp
   took one last look shrugged and gave up
we're caught in the middle of a hold-up
      pouring milk over a breakfast of stopwatches
    painting budget-deficit bombs with a biblical inscription
to ram god into the minds of an illiterate dead?

Chicago, Illinois