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literature
undimmed for human tears
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Literature Text
we’ve used war to define ourselves for over two centuries
painted our lips with communist red number seven, and
went out to dance to sleazy jazz with strange men in business suits.
we hid ourselves under neon lights burden with that green light
of cash, easy money hidden under writhing hooker bodies
because that’s just what happens to those poor girls and boys,
left out on the street because they’re paved with gold and the rent.
doesn’t matter who you are, we don’t discriminate as long as
you remember to shave your legs and smile real goddamn big,
just like hollywood told you to do when you got your braces off.
if you don’t fit into one category, we’ll scrape you down into one!
it’s easy peasy, honey, anyone can make it here in the states.
sodomy and modesty go together in the spiral of cohabitation,
revolutionaries of skyscrapers! prophets of escher and dalí!
we the people, who have carved gaping holes into the world
just so we can call the bleeding, glowing flesh our own.
this is my wedding ring to capitalism, where the scars
from the middle east are hidden under shining platinum,
and these are the bitemarks that consumerism left on
my shoulder, the bruising that hardly shows anymore.
we are an ideal, we are still creating ourselves from bones,
but nobody goes into the slaughterhouse for the view.
painted our lips with communist red number seven, and
went out to dance to sleazy jazz with strange men in business suits.
we hid ourselves under neon lights burden with that green light
of cash, easy money hidden under writhing hooker bodies
because that’s just what happens to those poor girls and boys,
left out on the street because they’re paved with gold and the rent.
doesn’t matter who you are, we don’t discriminate as long as
you remember to shave your legs and smile real goddamn big,
just like hollywood told you to do when you got your braces off.
if you don’t fit into one category, we’ll scrape you down into one!
it’s easy peasy, honey, anyone can make it here in the states.
sodomy and modesty go together in the spiral of cohabitation,
revolutionaries of skyscrapers! prophets of escher and dalí!
we the people, who have carved gaping holes into the world
just so we can call the bleeding, glowing flesh our own.
this is my wedding ring to capitalism, where the scars
from the middle east are hidden under shining platinum,
and these are the bitemarks that consumerism left on
my shoulder, the bruising that hardly shows anymore.
we are an ideal, we are still creating ourselves from bones,
but nobody goes into the slaughterhouse for the view.
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america's a great place but also an awful place and this is more about the awful place than the good place. we like to fool ourselves into thinking that everything's a lot better than it is but so does everyone else. the title's a line from "america the beautiful" by katharine lee bates.
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