[we have]

we have america under our tongues
between our teeth and tucked
between gums and swollen lips.

we have the sound of poets in an open field
shouting words to one another in friendly battle.

we judge the sun as it struggles to set
behind the white-washed back of a historical hotel
where the concrete is stained by the blood
of a thousand scrapped knees.

we are hungry for softer beds

bigger fields

and more friends we'd like to kiss
behind fences in confidence of secrecy.

to share america without speaking a word
we learn sign language and how to read lips
until the motivation of smell becomes us.

we have cancelled all borders,
but we constructed more fences for hiding behind.

our mouths are open wide with anxiety.

we have cursed the rising moon at dusk
for exposing our sloppy tongues
to the field of war-warn poets
and the wanting shells of men.

we have the taste of resolve on our fingers.

we have given ourselves up to the obedience
of a playground in the dark by choosing one
of one thousand beautiful creatures to sleep with.