Knar Gavin, Philadelphia

says this, my gobbler nation,

I, AMERICA, MER OF ICE-NOMOAR
AM ERA OF CALAMITY
AM ARIA OF BROKEN HINGE.
IMPLODING STRUCTURES
& GONE FULL
DESTROYER TO REACH
EACH & HIM OR HER OWN.
FUGUE OF THE FEW & FEWER.

you, citizen, are a mere cutout.
i am most holy & without need of you.

the dream drum is ruptured.
an ear through with hearing.

i am america, all ears of corn & starch-ornery.
i am preparing my arsenal against your marches.
i am weaponing into the Anthropocene.
loading the rivers with forever toxins.
overflowing my banks with monopoly money.

my arterials are designed to survive nuclear attack.
a state un-personed yet full with paths, forked and forking.
i was ready for the end of the world in 1945.
my poetics are atomic. are autonomous.
are the raison d’être for your automobiles.

my gut is swole. i smoothe your soles
& send you wild-chasing after
disinformation, & misinformation.

i bed you with lies.
lap you with my lion tongue.
am a kingdom full with smaller kingdoms
swallowed down.

when the lamb came to lay with me i ate him belly first,
saving not a chop for wolf or fly. certainly not for my hungrier cities.

i will replace the sky’s tenants
with machines of all sizes.
take your earth & your under-earth
& your overearth. boil your roiling seas.

i am broad-stuffed & marching to my own tune,
tectonic decibels screaming with the pounds

from these im/possible feet.
ritualized toxicities & limbs limp in my maw.

my liberty bell is not all that is cracked.
my innerface is mere interface.
should you grab my handle it will break off.

& says my Citizen:

EMPIRE, UMPIRE OF BATS & brutal balls, biggest:
READ ME MY WRONGS & FREEDOM WRUNG.

[read me my wrongs because Juridico is the largest country,
by & of the original gobbler ready with its ropes and lashings]

i have been given my national assurance:
free & dumb as a bloody bird is how i will have my foul snack.

oh america, largest machine of corporate speak,
corpse libations flood your guzzle-wide chambers.
& likewise gun chambers, diffuse orchestras of done & drone.

america, my citizen can longer be what is throng with you.
such a condition — like so many — is insufficient.
my throng is a rush of run-off & run-through.

nation of parking lots & automobiles,
you know only speed & tumble.

i dream of you tearing through the last wood.
razing every last tree. using palm oil as gargle.

america, i’ve seen your dreams
cut a person into endless halves,
scene of the division soaked.

vapor eyes cloud thick
& the oh-zone is outlawed
& outstripped.

why just this shortest wick, the quicker thrill?
why this brutal domination?

in this arc Hive of globalizing fever
we breed drones of all sizes,
messengers of an un-worlding
sting & stung.