Washington Monument
America’s middle finger
Saying “Fuck you, World”
“Entangling alliances” — fuck ‘em, said George + Tom
Who needs friends when you can kick everyone’s ass?
747s creep across the skies above.
Our new bald eagle, child of the Enola Gay.
But this Little Boy is made of carbon dioxide.
And this time, it’s the whole Earth that’s getting the cancer.
Neurons of awareness fire in the great dome across
The mall (buy buy buy).
The sparks, faint as they are, can’t ignite, can’t move
The decaying, yellow body below.
Even still.
Against all fucking belief.
The cherry blossoms bloom.
Again.
