"Ars Homelandia" by Brad Liening


I wish I was drunk in that pizza place
in a dress made of sun with a mouth made of light
enjoying a lighter brain type
mastering a knotty foreign language
so I might someday leave this place forever
to a nearby scorched planet
where data rates doubly apply
in a great face sculpted by wind
in the squealing image of children
over a millennia is the hangnail existence
my dad always warned me of
watch out he’d intone bending low over my prone shape
it would be wrong to say I’m not a squealing child
it would be wrong to say that wind is patient