The Agency Said They Were Sending a Blond(e)

          Your flag’s a sigh reflected in
a flame’s tear, flies hanging outside
their element ride hydrogen
bombs to Washington just in time
to get in on the high hearing
your president speak gives one, lies
like nitrous oxide to pieces of shit
          who live for logic’s thrill once denied it.
          The science is simple: even
idiots and patriots pried
from the crosshairs of their weapons’
sights can find their temple, it’s right
in front of them, television
making history p(r)etty might
be an exit strategy, deficits
          of morals mixed with insanity fit
          like gifts into this equation’s
proof your society needs minds
more than all its (d)evolution’s
(im)posterchild’s promises provide,
that even your constitution
was no use until amendments
pushed through Congress birthed what will help you with
          aborting your government’s fuck(ed) puppet.