We’ve corporated the Bill of Rights. Our
lovely bottled waters overlook the misty
oceans. More important, though, are our
bevelled heads, eloquently sculpted, bent
into vigorous debates; we’ve delegates from
the slipshod memories of pining pines, breezy
breezes and precious protections of liberty
strewn by the squirrels, eaten by the wood
peckers. We rise to meet our historical
challenge. Every day our beds are perfumed
with a continuing series of constitutional
amendments. We ache in ways that give us
pleasure, America’s new blueprint for capital
impoverishment. Blue balls and sogged faces.
