Good American Man

Good American Man
© Surazeus
2018 01 09

Plain aspirations of the working man
who loves to grasp metal tools with his hands
and tweak the purring engines of our cars
guides his fraught path through labyrinth of lies
so when he faces dead-end wall of greed
he tears down the wall with hammer of hope.

His hands extracted dirt from mountain core
and melted minerals in cauldrons of fire,
then hammered shining sheets and sturdy beams,
transforming rocks into tall towers of glass
that glitter in sprawling cities of light
where computers calculate profit margins.

Sitting on the front porch of his small home
on narrow street where children run and play,
he polishes rifles with oil and cloth,
and country music plays on his radio
while both the Union and Confederate flags
flap bold on the silver pole of his pride.

He guns the engine of his pickup truck
and races city streets to football field
where he cheers his son who charges ahead,
bashing into opponents with harsh growl,
then takes him fishing on the country lake
and throws beer cans in bushes after dark.

He claps when his preacher at church declares
Jesus is the king over all the world,
and he appointed our strong president
who defies the childish communist goon,
threatening to blast him with nuclear fire
because our missiles are bigger than theirs.

His neighbors declare to the news reporters
that he was a good American man,
and no one could predict what he would do
when he drove to the home of his ex-wife
where he killed her and her whole family,
so praise Jesus for his mercy and love.