1

I pledge allegiance to the flag

Of the United States of America

And to the republic for which it stands

One nation, under god, indivisible,

With liberty and justice for all

America, This is America

America. I’ll show you fucking America.

Uncle Sam bathes the children in their own blood

He bleeds, we bleed. We all scream for bloodlust

Dick Cheney unloads a cacophony of violence into young Iraqi mothers holding

Innocent babies in their bruised and battered arms.

“Those babies were bombs!” Or so I hear Cheney say

As he shotguns them

Digs a mass grave, and callously walks away.

At the same time Georgie W is beating back brown women and children with a

Gilded paddle from his

Rubber dinghy floating down the Mississippi

Way down in New Orleans as hurricane Katrina made levee’s fish food, he sings

“Row row row your boat, gently down the stream, drown Negroes, drown, drown,

You’re sinking my American dream.

Uh oh, they heard his bad singing; no harmony

Now discord reigns supreme supremacy over existence’s Supreme Court.

Now they’re trying to flip the boat

So he calls the National Guard, asking them to throw him a rope

But those boys are way over in Iraq

And due to a little governmental oversight, they show up just a little too late.

Sorry Georgie, hope you can swim.

America, My home, America.

America. Let me show you more America.

2

We blame pop culture, so we blame American culture,

So we actually blame ourselves in our attempts to escape pinning the blame on

ourselves

Playing pin the blame on me, blindfolded, with a pin the size of the empire state

building

“eee-onh”

Britney Spears is teaching children how to read, good,

Reminding them abstinence isn’t the only way,

Unless you married K-Fed ‘n’ got  knocked up 1,2, 5 times.

I’m not talking bout your sister; we know you’re carrying triplets

And while Brit’s distracted because she can’t actually read, good.

Little baby Spears is drowning in the tub singing the “gurgle-gurgle” song down the drain

‘Oops, I did it again

I played with your heart

Let you drown in the tub

Ooh baby baby’

Is this American mother we want to see on TV?

Ah… America

Uncle Sam is still busy drowning the children in blood;

Sounds like kids who can’t swim just can’t get a break

And those that survive Uncle Sam, Britney’s trying to drown in love *cough*

I mean tubs

I doubt she knows what love is

If you’re going to commit to something, you’d at least better do it right

At least Uncle Sam knows what blood is

America, Some place, this America.

In a class they call ‘Better future through college tuition’

Uncle Sam puts his hand on a young black man’s shoulder and whispers

“Get up, Stand up, Stand up for your right…” to go to college

Serve your country and your country serves you

Young man sees no other way out of the ghetto

So he dons his army green

And stands up to get his degree

But I can’t say dying in Fallujah is better than dying in the street.

“You just got served, bitch!” Uncle Sam shouts

Before shooting him down with an M-16

Sends him to the back of the class with the other stamped foreheads that reads

K.I.A.

And that ain’t just the marines

Left, left, left, right, left ten-hut!

This is the truth behind this American dream.

[Machine gun sounds, pantomimes grenade]

3

We blame our fat on McDonalds; tip our hat to the dollar,

Curse that guy Dharesh, the neighborhood’s ice cream wallah

We bitch, we moan, but we pretend not to see

Ronald McDonald curb stomping children half as old as me.

We see him beating the children, eating the children like little burgers and

burgerettes,

Running and screaming

“I don’t wanna grow up", a little boy says as he runs;

"I had such ambition, hopes and wishes

And none of my dreams include

Not growing up, because I’m food…

I think it would hurt to be…chewed”

Ronald replies, “Ah munna eat choo!”

The establishment doesn’t end there

Down the block the colonel makes Kentucky fried munchkins,

Damn crunchy munchkins,

Boneless munchkins that scream with every chew

You know they taste good though.

Deep fried finger licking good little fingers of a little finger licking boy or girl

And don’t ask what the sauce is

America, America,

Feels Good. Looks good. Sounds good too.

4

So, I’m in this McDonalds ordering a McGluttony with extra large fries

Donning rags of red, white, and blue

When Dick Cheney walks in with that shotgun of his,

He sounds a little pissy so I guess he’s low on gas

Black Eyed Peas sitting in a booth sipping McFlurries

And they ask him “where is the love?”

So Dicky boy with the shotty puts the ba-rrel in Fergie’s mouth and *Ba-Blow*

“Shaddap, bitch, where’s the love now?”

And everybody stands there gape mouthed

As Cheney turns around and *reload* *Ba-Blow* Will.I.Am

And *reload* *Ba-Blow* JT

And *reload* *Ba-Blow* Taboo

And *reload* *Ba-Blow* That… one no body remembers the name of

Cheney gets in the play-pen and goes back to shooting the kids.

Those little Iraqi baby-bombs, or so I hear him say

Cheney, stop shooting the kids!

If you keep this up, what else will Ronald have to eat

You know he doesn’t eat anything except all-white meat

Cheney has a massacregasm and smokes a post coital cigar off a flaming barrel

of oil

Baby oil that is, that is i.e. oil made from baby juice, and if you know what baby

juice is,

You didn’t hear it from me.

[Motions baby squeezing]

It’s renewable though…

I pledge allegiance to that blood and tar stained flag

Of the united states of whatthefuckmerica

And to the hypocrisy, for which it stands

One nation, lost to god, incorrigible

With suffering, and injustice abound

5

But America is not lost

We are being asked to pause for a reality check.

We have been warned against giving this nation false hope

But in the unlikely story that is America,

There’s never been anything false about hope.

We are not as divided as our politics suggest

We are one people

We are one nation

And together, we will begin the next great chapter in the American story

With three words that will ring

From coast to coast

From sea to shining sea

Yes we can

Barack the vote

© 2008 Eugene Aarons-Cooke