Freedom, or, The Extraordinary Fatness of Being American

Freedom:
...is not having
a squadron of speed-crazed mercenaries flying over you in
fanciful, super-advanced
Aircraft called “F-15’s” or some bullshit,
spraying you casually
with depleted uranium child lymphoma bullets
and dropping
12-ton bombs
that scatter hair-brained like high-tone western reason and sanctimony,
O-bliterating weddings,
village life, sweet little tended goats,
and other poorly armed triumphs of the human spirit,
While the funders of the aircraft
sit at home and pay up like cash machines,
like ATM's powered by devilishly cheap hamburger sandwiches,
forgetting everything instantly
if they knew anything to begin with.
some of the cash machines can even cheer loudly,
thanks to a special sonic App that responds to the sight of blood
and children's tears.

Freedom is living in Utah
where the leaders are strange
but do not shoot you for adultery,
they sanctify it.

Freedom is a country that shoots
Only the male adulterers,
and what a small and unpopulatable country that would be,
with a surplus of guilt-ridden females
and gay men.

Freedom, possibly, is
being aware of the presence at all times
of other caring people,
near and abroad,
and not feeling this deep
Sense of terrorized uncertainty and hopeless serfdom
under the yoke
of whatever it is that sets the Policy of Set
here in the homeland
and sends the boys and babies and succulent pre-pubescents into the trenches,
if they’re lucky.

Freedom is Tennessee,
Where I live and can roam among a vast federal sanctuary of bright
Wilderness, healthy at this point still...
Tennessee, a state of being known
for rags to riches,
Dolly Parton and Andrew Jackson,
a land of unlimited churches and limited taxes,
that worships a weekend contest
organized around a bladder of pig's flesh
and the basic principles of mindless warfare.
A place that once belonged to fierce and noble Indians,
but now to property-owners and renters,
just as fierce and noble,
and armored in a thick layer of fat,
fat on ground ungulate
and hoarded revenue,
fat on chubby mindless political notions,
fatally fat, fat
with extremely fat buttery daughters
and over-fed dogs.

I'm free, free, free at last,
you great Tubby bastard,
to be fat.