Anthem

I really wish that this was fictional writing like most everything else in this blog.

I hear the Anthem, our National Anthem
And I can feel the bile rise.

Sharon drove trucks her whole life;
Back and fourth over hundreds of miles
She saw our entire country and
Loved what she saw.
She worked and saved and slaved
To meet the meritocracy's demands
And finally could afford her lands:
No electricty, no plumbing but hers.
She bred & sold hoofstock;
(Nothing I could agree with ethically
But I could admire her hard work).
She embodied the elusive "American Dream"
That says we must start from the bottom
And struggle to the top if we want
The more elusive happiness.

Land of the free, land of the free
She was living in the land of the free.

Sharon was a lesbian and her partner
Died of breast cancer.
They'd built the farm together
Like a classic old-West pioneer couple.
I say partner because love is not love
In the land of the free
Unless it is sterile and Christian
So they were never wed.
But still she loved her country
Because she was living in the land of the free.

They say those despots in sweltering, faraway places
Will impose their will
Take your land
Crush your freedoms.
Who is the despot who came to Sharon's farm
The one she worked for all her life
The place where she built her dreams
And kept alive the spirit of her dearly departed?
Who was it who whispered the curse of Progress
The sound of which is not marked by marching forward footsteps
But by the wails of dreams trampled in its wake?
Eminent Domain, they call it
Because in America, we use fancy words
As a mask for our disgraces.

Because in America
A road or strip mall or housing development
Is more important than the American Dream.

Land of the free, land of the free
Unless you are some trifling little person
With a farm and a memory and a dream
Then you're just a casualty donning fresh pavement.

Yeah, I hear the Anthem, our National Anthem
And I can feel the bile rise.