Shaped barely by the
Moon’s pale serving 
Of a foreign daylight
In a chair
A field
Laid bare in the
Solemn custody
Of mountains

In this kindled country 
I cannot help myself

I cannot hear a living
Thing against

The bellowing 

Atomic threat of the
Atomic threat I fear 
Not death
But my heart would
Break to cease
My daughters
Having never seen America

Pedestrian attempt to slay
The former president elect
And everyone was wrong
And everyone correct
The last first and first last 
Chance to jump the flaming
Schooner or mutiny
Astonishing
A furious returning

To America

To raise the meek
The hurt
Yea even the unhungry poor

A national compassion

Even love

Every tongue and people
Equal in thy fielding love

But Lord I
Know thy
Word

And see
No agreed end

To the computer
The mongering
Of whores
Of war and rumors of it

Mock of God
God of Mammon
Promise hollow
As the promiser

The bag
The industries
Banal immystery

Of greed

Soil spoiled bountifully
Food unfit for beasts
Unseemly in the noneyes
Of bacteria
In unmanageable excess
In this poverse

Age 
Of

The unassuming cancer chemical 
The hushed addictions
Honored minds
In secret combination

Against innocence

Wouldst thou spare the little ones
Would we be spared by them
Changed by their detergent hearts

Dear God

Suffer them to suffer 
Less or if not less then
Armed with wholer minds

I would be more childlike
I would change

Yea in thy courage 
I would be a martyr Lord
I would drink the whole supply
Of fluoride in thy name
Improve the living quality 
By some depressing margin

If that would make thee happy
I would gladly drink

I would die a handsome lamb

But
Already paid 
In blood pristine
The ransom
Fallen distance
Closed in
Infinite
Atonement

Forgive me for 
I constantly forget

The Resurrected Christ
The Lamb

So leaning on my own
Misunderstanding
My unproven hands

And will He come
Yea He will come

And at the second 
Of His coming 

I will sparkle

Walking bootless
Through the levellings
I will wash His feet 
And by His blessing
Skipping plains
And foothills leaping
Gathering his diverged sheep
Gathering myself
Back
To the Good Green Shepherd
Joy ever unfolding 
In the fold

And I am but
The least I am but
Here Lord is 

My lung
My other lung
My fragile mind
And geographic tongue

My love of
Beauty
Truth
Unrelative

My poems 
Leafed and stupid
This one overwrought
And so political

So what
So long

My swagger
My symbols
My boots

My forthcoming nothing

Yea all upon the altar
Wrapped up in that gorgeous flag

I raised as a boy
Replacing it when torn
Or dragged upon the ground
Over which it waved

I still know how to fold the flag

1. Halve it lengthwise twice
2. Bring the striped corner
  Of the folded edge
  To the open edge
  To form a triangle
3. Turn inward the outer point
  Parallel with the open edge
  To form a second triangle
4. Fold the length remaining
  In a triangle until
  The outside shows
  A blue field clean with stars

I may be misremembering
I remember most 
The reverence

And now
Returning

Lord

I would give thee all
Walk all ways thou wouldst
I would walk the Earth content 
But not unlonging for America

This strange and swooning land
Thy children living here
Americans
My darlings
My love so poorly tendered
So profane at times
And yet

Beloved

Beyond my 
Self captivity

I am
In America

The animals
American
Landscapes
Clouds presiding
Pretending likeness
The all life
Singing
In thy solar tongue

Thy language plain
Thy grammar just

Lord

As thou art perfect
Make me perfect

And if it be thy will
Let it happen in America

And tomorrow

As I walk down
The throat of August

I confront a lizard 
Long and sheening in the sun
His shorn tail returning

Young and undeformed            
A tiny tail grows back

Does he even know
Does he know this is the place

Does he know he is 
The hope
The proof
The soft and blinking
Elegance of thy plan                                                                    

                                        OF HAPPINESS