American Shrine (a poem)

Traveling through America, in search of the Shrine

you know the one, mister, the place that encapsulates

our nation’s fears, dreams, triumphs + loathing –

some say the shrine is a shopping mall

Mother Church of Consumerism

but you know better

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Escaping from the Nightmare (a poem)

Thank you for helping me escape from the nightmare –

I thought I’d never be free from the cold cell in my mind,

where the warden stood silent outside – where yellow-eyed

rats scurried from dark corners and ate my supper – where

every day was a dark winter’s afternoon, and drifts of cold air

blew through barred windows, and I shivered in rags on the

dirt floor. Thank you: I have my freedom now, and I will march

the city streets, demanding freedom for the others, the ones

also imprisoned by the nightmare.

(Photo by Ashim D’Silva on Unsplash)