A.j. Binash

Rookie - 44 Points (04-20-1988 / Dodgeville WI)

'I Am A Real American' - Poem by A.j. Binash

Garbage man
Curls his bruised middle finger
Like a bald eagle's claw
With the rest
Of the fingers.

Scavenges through
Suburban blonde's trash.

He uncovers artifacts
Empty Tampax boxes,
Banana peels,
People Magazines,
Cupcake recipes
And a full box of expired condoms.

She stands in front of the mirror.
Her gray hairs glint.
They scream for freedom!
While hired suffocation
Sprays across
At 9.95-(a special
Assassination
From Pantene Pro-v)

Garbage man
Separates a pound
Of rotting spaghetti
(Tuesday night
Is always pasta night.
Consistency is a must,
For the economy to thrive.
Profit can be measured.
Spend, Spend, Spend
Credit, Credit, Credit)
Pulls from underneath it
A stained American flag.

He wipes marinara sauce
Onto his gray jumpsuit.

The bruise on his middle finger
Stained red.
**** a commie red.

In a flash of nostalgia
Remembers his elementary school
Art teacher
Handing him a sheet
Of blue construction paper.
In a breath
She told him
“Fold it in half
Like a hotdog bun.”

Following instructions
From his youth
He applies the same method
To the flag.

Then folds
Triangle
After
Triangle.

Th ree points in the end.
3rd planet from the sun.
Hosting the best country
In the galaxy!

He places it
Atop the rest of the garbage.

Later on
It will be recycled
Into cloth napkins

The suburban blonde
Will use,
For her Christmas party.


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Poem Edited: Wednesday, February 26, 2014


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