Independence Day

I.

The kick of equality
across a continent
and a dose of
What. The. Fuck
does not match
the Q&A quiz
I took at 18
when I could finally vote

"What can you not stand, Tammy?"
"Hypocrisy."

Yet -
here it is—mangy hair
matted to the scalp,
shoveling the ground
to bury bones of truth
every passing moment

Its lids barely hang
by the teeth of its skin
blocking its eyesight
to democracy

dragging all that weight
killing off the last gulp of reason
to kick across the country
Democrat and Republican

No, this was not
my first impression
of Patriotism
nor to be a proud American  

II.

Hypocrisy will tell us
how the last fours year
was a cruel winter
an empty Thanksgiving dinner

The passing of “justice”
was a stolen office
the lie congealing into a cross
to be shoved
down our throats
in the form of a bible

The unbroken bread
of unity’s communion
unable to call out
the best wine
now poisoned Kool-aid
in red solo cups

The opening of lips
are not always called for
but there it is—
inappropriate drivel
spilling from the tongue
of a liar

III.

This poem
is not appropriate
for me to show

It is not appropriate,
for me to slit open
my emotions
when they’re bruised
beyond the known

allowing open enemies
to creep in
while my clumsy
attempts to stitch them
back before being seen
fail miserably

A cluttered
chaotic
hypocritical mess
on the eve of Independence Day
when we expelled
country and king
for democracy  

IV.

Yet, it's still a shelter
with a warm welcome
Liberty’s torch continues to burn
for now

There is still a message,
and sometimes being couth
is just as inappropriate

So I'm doing it

I’ve got some cleaning to do
and no human
should have to
hold a mop and broom
against injustice alone

I think of the others
who may be biting their tongues
in two and I say

There is sunlight
on the other side of this coup
I know
because I've seen it
dance like a marionette
amid the shadows

Slivers of light
bending a frame
of time, waiting
to break free
from control

There are more
than second chances
more memories to be made
from happiness

So, lets clean this place
until we uncover the constitution
and reignite the fire
in our soul's wild stallion

V.

If you're angry
then kick the door
off the stable

Root up dust too

Keep stalling the engine
keep chipping the transmission

and if the poison-pinching tension
has you tight
as your synthetic tourniquet
then scream splinters
into the sky

It can take it

That's why
its shoulders were created
so wide

VI.

I tell myself, there are
so many dances left
in life,
so much joy
to find,
refuse to be held down
by what you can't control

The loss of liberty
the pursuit of happiness
these are things
hypocrisy cannot hold
from us
if we choose to believe

We have to regain
the hunger
the thirst
for something pure
to reconnect with

Something that transports
through the ether
because it gets clogged
by all the clutter
if we don’t

VII.

Hypocrisy is a mess
a sticky substance
and no man nor woman
can easily lift a finger
surrounded by
what causes us to suffer

Open the blinds
up in the tunnel
roll away the stone
from the mouth of the cave
unblock the abundance
of beauty's offerings

Learn to fall in love
again
with the world's magic
despite ugliness and greed
permeating like a cancer

Because even that too
contains light that may not be viewed
in the present moment
under hypocrisy's thumb

VIII

But. . .

“Three things cannot be long hidden:
the sun, the moon, and the truth”