The Native-American Dream, by Heath Brougher

There very well could have been a Native-American Dream.

Unfortunately, the European’s Dream, the seed

of the American Dream, quickly came charging in

and began its destruction before it even thought to ask!

 ..

Maybe there was a Native-American Dream,

though, good luck finding one who can tell

you what it is. Or was. Though I’m guessing

if there was a Native-American Dream,

it has severely changed over the past few centuries.

What I’m Not, by Heath Brougher

The whole world may be laughing at them,

but they’re not laughing at me.

I am no american.

I run with no herd.

Have allegiance to no one but my Self.

Yet they try to call me an american

just because I happened to have been born

at a particular place in the world?

 ..

Once again Proximity reigns,

along with the axiomatic insanity of society.

Trump was Right, by Heath Brougher

Trump did not win the Presidential Election—

for it was hatred that won the Presidential Election.

All those bigots running deep into the valleys of America

where the hills have eyes finally received their spokesperson.

They could finally unleash all that latent racism and homophobia and xenophobia

that lay quiet as a landmine just waiting for detonation.

These vicious voices were finally given a platform

and they ate it right up like swine from a trough.

 ..

Trump was right. He could have stood in the street

and shot someone without losing a single vote

because the election was never about that—

for it was hatred, and nothing else, that won the election.

Trump is Not a Person, by Heath Brougher

Trump is not a person. He is the conduit of hatred

that was lying latent in the heads and hearts

of the American herd which sprung into action

when the poles closed so cold and relevant

on that terrible Tuesday. Now, a lunatic bounces

off the walls of the oval office after admittedly,

and in such a braggardly way, to grabbing many an oval orifice

which would have spelled immediate political death

for any sane politician. This is why Trump is not a person.

Trump is an ideology reflected back at the bigoted, dumb as a rock

populace, which, consciously or subconsciously,

ate up his bigotry right from the filthy, golden dog dish

upon which this blight was served. Equality is now

severely jeopardized and is slowly atrophying

every minute this man, this idea, is alive and breathing

with his tiny hands so wrathfully wrapped around

the biggest piece of power in the world.

 ..

Someone should really pry his little fingers

off of that as soon as possible.

Seedling by Heath Brougher

So I’ve heard that you’ve

been unplugging various wires

integral to the function

of your brain

in the realm of Mainstream Thought.

 

Was I supposed to punish you for this?

 

I applaud you for it.

 

Just remember you’re still very young

and when you unplug

at such an early age

your “Being Misunderstood Ratio” goes up

quick as vertiginous spontaneous skyscrapers.

 

Just keep waiting for the inevitable

garden of Intellect to bloom

and keep sucking up the Truths

that you deem marrow-worthy. 

Evolution of the Word “Cartoon” by Heath Brougher

Up until recently

the word

“cartoon”

did not

carry with it

such a heavy overtone

of seriousness.

 

It was previously

a word

which evoked

a sense

of lightness,

of fluffiness,

of childishness,

of silliness,

of nonsense.

 

Well, I guess

it still conjures

an aura

of nonsense,

just in a much more

bloodstained context

than before.

American Virus by Heath Brougher

american undercrawl

american outgrowth

american spit in your face

american infestation

american money-madness

american roach and rat

american sticky fingers

american oil-lubed thoughts

american bombs and boister

american piss in the wind

american bully

american inflicted lacerations

american nothing vestal left

american smokestacks

american anger

american frustration 

american brainless

american selfish

american people

american monsters.

 

No More Rebels Without a Cause by Heath Brougher

Burning torch song anthems

into your skin

as a show

a glimpse

a flash

of your rebellion.

 

This used to be a pointless ritual

but now something

wicked this

way came

and ripest rebellion is needed

now more than ever before.  

What the Rooster Really Says by Heath Brougher

Good (motionless bloated baby bodies along the road to Baghdad,

violent religious uprisings, daily bombings, African children skin and bones,

nuclear warheads armed and at the ready, Fukushima toxic waste

leaking into the Pacific, a healthcare system where one accident will send you

straight to the poorhouse, the skeletal shambles of the economy,

melting polar icecaps, the terrorist news stations, various diseases

one mutation away from becoming a pandemic, politicians spouting

nothing resembling the Truth, assault rifles in the hands of maniacs,

fracking next door, flammable tap water, China rising, trans fats

and obesity, hospitals full of infected lymph nodes, a prison of toxic

food and pills, this spurious democracy, and that atrocious

possible Truth in the back of your head that keeps telling you

there just may be no light at the end of that tunnel) morning.

..

Heath Brougher is the poetry editor of Five 2 One Magazine and co-poetry editor of Into the Void Magazine. He published 3 chapbooks last year, A Curmudgeon is Born (Yellow Chair Press), Digging for Fire, and Your Noisy Eyes (both by Stay Weird and Keep Writing Press). He is a Best of the Net Nominee and his work has been translated into journals and anthologies in Albania and Kosovo. He edited the anthology Luminous Echoes, the proceeds of which are donated to Pieta House in Ireland which helps with the prevention of suicide/self-harm. His work has appeared in Of/with, Chiron Review, MiPOesias, Brave New Word, Lakeview, Picaroon Poetry, eFiction India, Lotus Eater Magazine, The Curly Mind, BlazeVOX, and elsewhere.