Wake me. Bang my dead drum drum,
clang clang my anvil my bell. Shout me
hush me your song, your shiny
impossible, your long, wounded song.
Tell me everything you know, you
don’t. Tell me, do you feel conquered
and occupied? Maybe I’ve forgotten.
Sing it plain, has America ever let you
be you in your own sky? 

 

from Dear New Blood, 

by Mark Turcotte 

*it's on poem-a-day.org and there's an audio recording by the poet that's really good.