American Darkness

No darkness like
American darkness:

scalp in one fist, treaty in the other; it wears a stolen feather.

 

No darkness like American darkness.

We all know what’s under the bed; it wears a white hood.

No darkness like
American darkness:

it stinks of plastic
instead of ancient woods;

wears menace like a tumbling skyscraper,
not like a sacred mountain.

No darkness like
American darkness:

it doesn’t wear black,
but green;

it doesn’t even care
if you can see it.

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About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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