You Who Bury Your Poets

America.... you who bury your poets like fallen leaves beneath weeping trees. like the sound of the tire that strikes the stray cat. like the trembling dark skinned hands you ban from your voting booths. like the flag draped caskets of your sacrificed young. like the books you burn with religious fervor.... like the shuffle of boots in your unemployment lines. like the faceless ones in your clinics shutting down. like the ones who speak out, then suddenly disappear. like the crack pipes and needles of your 'worthless' poor.... like the babies born to babies in your rat infested government housing. like your Native Americans in your 'poverty prisons'.... like the angry young men you put behind bars. like the hungry child sleeping in the back of a broke down car. like your factory ghosts haunting empty shells. like your foreclosed farms, the fields left to crows. America, you who bury your poets, and dance drunkenly in empty rooms, neath the shadow of the noose your indifference tied!