America
-
I hear my neighbor shooting volleysof bullets into the woods and wonder if he’s imagining people like metied to his trees. Of course, this land is your land, this landis my land, and crown thy good with brotherhood, etc. but you get the feeling that the grapes of wratharen’t stored in the purple mountain majesties… Read more
-
Land of gold and proud parades,inside every broken housedwells an agitated mouse;—ammo waits in mountain caves. Glitter shines on evening gowns,while self-appointed agents goafter children in the snow;—tax evaders polish crowns. All of Caesar’s beds are warm,as every discontented man,now an avid partisan,sells tickets for the firestorm. Bodies lie along the wall,and little birds with… Read more
Selected Poems by Tom Crider 