my eighth grade teacher once told me
that america was a great place to live.
no, the greatest place in the whole
friggin earth, no, maybe even
in the whole friggin galaxy.
at the time i just thought to myself,
what's wrong with this woman?
because no teacher of
united states honors history should be
permitted to use the word friggin
that much.

i was young, of course.

i'm not patriotic but i'm beginning to think
that america really is a great place to live.
and that it belongs to me.
america belongs to ME.
the first time i said that i was in some maryland
DSW shoe store, with a shopping bag
with souvenirs to my latest confederate reenactment
battle inside of it. i put my fist in the air
and cried out inside my head:
the confederates and yankees desperately
needed shoes. all they wanted was shoes.
those brave boys are long dead, and
i have no money, but i will get them some shoes.
and i will wear them for them.
and honorably so.
so i stuck about six pairs of shoes (flats)
in my brown paper bag shopping bag,
and walked out of the store with my head up high.
i liked that i could justify my means
just by quoting facts from our united states history,
that i had been taught by my eighth grade teacher.
and i may be mistaken but i do believe
that i was the day I decided that
america was a great place to live.