Country Western

Via carriage and steamer and saddle and rail,
via twin-prop and airship and ship of the desert,
via savannah, via steppe, via zip line and glider,
under moat and under rampart, over barb
and under wire, under three green seas, via burro,
via grapple, via ballistic trajectory, like broke satellites
cratered in alien dirt, like banged knuckles on the door
of an uneasy speakeasy, we were the party after
the party nobody wanted, sober and famished,
we were the parched fronds beggared and supplicant
to the clouds, the clouds distant and cool
as a bourgeoisie, and we without our sleet coats,
and we without our hail hats, with less than a shekel,
less than a rupee, less than a kroner or any glinting
Kennedy, three pence short of a peso, we arrived
over guard and under sentry, via catapult, via coyote,
via many genies blinking, we arrived bats in a manse
no bat should inhabit, so we grew fin and we grew talon,
we scrambled arachnid and jaguared in the canopy,
dissembled, reassembled, and it’s true we piss now
in marbled closets and shower indoors as if
we are clergy, it’s true no junta defiles us, no furious
drone or hegemon’s boot, but the faces on the currency
all watch me, the paintings in the museum all say,
This is life on earth! This is life on Earth! so I’m jealous
of their candor, but that isn’t my pasty duchess,
that isn’t my butchered messiah, that isn’t my bounty
of meat beside the gilded chalice, I’m no Medici,
and that isn’t my life on earth I arrived in via wormhole,
via subspace, via mother ship descending, in a snap-button
sarong, in a denim sari, in my ten-gallon turban, I look
so authentic you'd almost believe it's the 44th of July,
I'm the sheriff of this here cow town, I'm one jack better
than a straight flush, buzzards above the valley,
I can see the whites of your eyes, my name is Consuela,
you can call me Mr. President, you can reach for the sky.
The Tallest Building in America
Jaswinder Bolina

The Tallest Building in America

Jaswinder Bolina

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