America's Thread Poem by Jeffrey Quattlebaum

Unraveled and forgotten like a cat’s toy
a old stocking
under a unkempt bed
on a dusty wooden floor
in a dusty town in Indiana
sitting on a kitchen shelf
and old bottles that once
kept medicine and milk
have long been hollow like a inner city dream
deplorable and menacing fabric of ruin
children mostly wearing the colors of this undesirable future
ask not where the old heroes lay for no answer
is close at hand
in a empty one room schoolhouse
in a empty desert town
Unraveled and invisible like a blue torn bandana
and a cold dead camp fire
and twelve lane highways
tearing through with progress and division
saluting and daring and in a hurry
all in the now and going absolutely no where
all at once and the fire that gave way to the hundreds of blood years
and millions succumbed to might
be it wrong or of the divine
raised our babies in the hands of our lady of fear
in the fast, the blurry, the fantastic rush
Into the night, the dark wonderful night