Blame It On The Arabs Poem by Nat Z. Punx

summer vacation!
i witness a wisp
of the american dream
he flung his youngest over the balcony
of the 15th floor of the high rise hotel
then he flung his oldest over
as she entered the room
he jumped
her next husband
will never hear
her bitching
about his driving
disney thrives

is this really america?
land of the free
is this really america?
home of the brave

all the ghosts have brain damage
and the prophets
are at the track
im stretched out in the back
of a '62 cadillac
me casa es su coacha