Award Winning Poem America Politics Culture Commercialism E.e. Cummings T.S. Eliot Langston Hughes Walt Whitman Federico Garcia Lorca Wasteland

because it is the song of myself,
i sing the song of America.
along her river,
the mill wheel was grinding,
i went seeking and finding
to the library amid the sewers.
i read the books, failed the tests,
withstood the looks and the jests
as a boy i glued my pupils to Captain America:
"sometimes the Red skull wins but usually the Green goblin"
my peers fought for footballs and females,
painted by number, thought in unison,
and wrote poetry by formula {
Under-
Neath
Interior,
Ford®
Occasionally
Raises n(umbers)ihilism of
Mor(t)ality
}
but i read the books.
three million miners extracted energy from nothing
two million more connected springs with sprockets to load the breech
one hundred sat in chairs in offices counting money
"but usually the Green goblin"
and on a pedestal, soft white hands in gray coat,
Lord Keynes spake: "we must pretend to ourselves that
fair = foul, foul = fair (like happy lambs to glorious)
for foul is useful and fair is not
Usury and Avarice and Precaution must
be our Holy Trinity for longer"
for humanity, there is a certain
Happiness in un(ex)I(ploy)Ty®(tation)
Get Beanies® @ McDonald's®
I too sing America®
and myself,
because America 'tis of me.
(soldiers raising [banner] clicking mouse)
on a pedestal, through the nimbus
Lord Gates speaketh "Ein World, Ein
Net (we're trapped)
we m(ight)ay spread i(gnor)nforma(nce)shun
to All"

along the banks of the river,
the mill wheel was grinding
the Big Mac was rite of passage
the teachers were rolling dice
the Admission Officer was drawing names from his helmet
the students were sentenced to death by circumlocution
{Governor: "were I would object alas polls speak 'no'..."}
i was using the passive voice (no-no)
"y la vida no es noble, ni buena, ni sagrada."

"oh my industrial darling,
were I would take you from the New Los City
and you can see the moon for once and stars because
there was never time nor profit to see them before.
you and i,
we cover our scars with asphalt and ribboncutting,
we measure our days by wages,
our years by deadfamily.
we bury our loved ones in fields where
they may see 180° of Heaven.
someday, when the cogs fall into decay,
we shall meet there, you and i
and over the grave we shall be reborn.
no building, scrape, Big Mac, obstruction, efficient death,
just f(l)at empty"

my name is mike and i am the outside
my glasses are too thick, my arms too thin
i walk 40 minutes to school everymorning
i have no car and no job and i don't want these
my grades mean nothing, scores even less
i don't feed the blind, play tennis or chess
but sometimes, whentheworld isrushing aroundme,
i write poems without pen, carving images inside my forehead,
so that i may look at myself when i please.

i sing the song of America
because it is the song of myself
her(my) amber waves of grain to parkinglot
["for without parkinglot there can be no starbucks and Progress"]
beat plowshares to pistons,
beat compassion to efficiency.
a mallady without recognition,
a melody without variation,
i sing the song of america
and it is a dirge

Author's Note:
In 2000, this poem won the Louise Louis/Emily F. Bourne Student Poetry Award presented by the Poetry Society of America. Judge Elizabeth Alexander said this of the poem: 'The voice in this poem is sharp and knowing without falling into too-easy cynicism. The poem is chock-full of popular cultural and poetic references intelligently wielded. Them poem's rhythm and movement are persuasively Whitmanian, but the poet is also creating something very much his own. Fresh and energetic, a paean to poetry itself (which serves to let the poet "look at myself when I please") "America®" is a most deserving recipient of this student prize.'
This poem most notably draws on the tradition of poets such as cummings and Eliot, while borrowing heavily from the styles of Whitman and Lorca (see "Ode to Walt Whitman" by Lorca from "Poeta en Nueva York") to draw parallels in the problems and potential of America of Whitman's time to today. I would be happy to let any teacher use this in the classroom (I know of a high school teacher who used it to help teach Eliot's "The Wasteland" since there are some allusions and homage present.)
The poem is very visual, not really intended for reading aloud, which most people will associate with cummings. There are some issues with formatting (the original poem fit very nicely into two columns on one page, and made use of superscripts and symbols that I can't reproduce on this site) but I don't feel these changes hurt the poem. If this poem seems especially bad to you, I would say that it is truly intended to be, as this would be a reflection of the bad thing that is its subject. But maybe you can find some good in it like hopefully we can still find some good in our country.
I wrote this in November of 1999 and haven't changed it although I think it could use some polishing in places. But I like it for its flaws. By the way, the quote following 'Lord Keynes spake' is a slightly modified quote from economist John Maynard Keynes. The quote following 'Lord Gates speaketh' is based on a one time slogan for Microsoft: "One World, One Net" And the line "y la vida no es noble, ni buena, ni sagrada" ("and life is not noble, nor good, nor sacred") is Lorca from "Ode to Walt Whitman".