JACOB MORAN

★ ★ ★ ★

POETRY

I Hear America Screaming

I hear America screaming, cries from a melting pot,

The blood, the fuel pumping through its varicose vessels

seconds from scouring out with a wrath.

I hear the worker trudging through the drudgery

and fuming, scarcely standing on feeble ends.

I hear the child being medicated deeply, spellbound and engrossed by

media and LEDs.

I hear the women being stripped bare, with a mouth sewn shut, negated health

and rights-to-bear.

I hear the scholar falling, seeping deep into a crater of criminal tellers

slowly fleecing them for the foreseeable years.

I hear the policeman, sacking without warning on innocuous people

on charges of possession of hue.

America weeps with mouths agape, singing along to the

bludgeoning ballad as we sink united into a pit of aversion.

I sing along with scathing lungs, while no wet of hope

Is on our tongues.