i’ve seen america…

traveled by foot…car…bus…trains all over this land of ours…through hamlets…small towns…ruined cities of old where men worked…kids played…kisses stolen in midnight hours…moms wept when boys came home and daughters gave birth to new generations all safely tucked away in craddles of hope…beds of promise…

New York to Fort Wayne through PA and Ohio i crossed…in search of america…this voice leading me past broken down factories…clogs in machines..into early morning coffee-shops with smokey brunette waitresses sharing dreams of theirs…fears…lives that happened along the way…

i wandered over mountains in West Virginia on Greyhounds going East…shut-down stores…abandoned cars…ambitions stolen…neon Pepsi signs glaring through foggy cool air…people in soup lines…labor lines…all wanting to be picked…all just wanting to be picked…black girls skipping rope in rusted parks….women hanging laundry in the dirty breeze…men chewing and spitting…chewing and spitting on sidewalks leading no-where…no-where…

saw Cincinnati ghettos late at night…whores trolling for prey…stripped bikes chained to light posts…shoes over wires…guns popping off rounds as wheels slowly roll and the boom boom bass of stereos in Chevys…Fords…old Dodges pass people who no longer run…no longer run…

Kentucky junkies in Covington…Newport…wandering ’round in a haze…strippers at the Brass Ass selling themselves to Mexican migrant workers waisting money on booze and tits…booze and tits…kids drinking craft beers…raising glasses to weekly sales quotas and cash prizes…

i’ve seen america…
i’ve seen america…
i’ve seen america…

talked to deadheads…Phish fanatics…pot growers united in Vermont on chilly nights while good girls and boys of Montpelier slept…dreaming of fall’s colors and wonders…quaint farmers markets…folk music played…a square dance danced…hands clapped and all was right with the world… right with the world…

sat on the shores of Lake Michigan…Chicago was a backdrop…a Northside and a South…white Chicago…black Chicago…gentrified Chicago…ancient Chicago…the Westside where sculpted Puerto Rican flags stand still…Polack diners…shrimp houses…Maxwell polish and Jewtown ain’t Jewtown no-more…gone…gone…gone…

and now we wait for the second coming…we wait for a resurrection…a rebirth…we wait…we wait…like old men with fishing poles…we wait…we wait…

i’ve seen america…
i’ve seen america…
i’ve seen america…

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