Americana Roar

We two-stepped in
the dawn of America,
across dusty dance floors
to the shrill of Patsy Cline,
we grape-vined in our broken bones
and our black and blue hearts,
casting wanting glances
across the sweaty sticky bar room floor,
we cheered for Johnny Cash,
the dream of white washed America he held,
and we hollered for all those
early nineties trashy honky tonk
country songs that brought back
memories of car trips with windows down
and fast tobacco fields flying by.
We picked cotton in our dreams,
or the dreams of our ancestors,
we apologized for what we’ve done wrong,
we held dirty hands
we nursed dirty hearts,
we wrapped our regrets to rest
in retired American flags.
Freedom is messy, let the fireworks roar.

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