New TCBH! poem:

Woodland camo in space

leave this alone
the Space Force is America’s
final last ditch
macho-nationalistic-bi-polar-
obsessive-compulsive-masturbatory
adolescent-neo-nazi-extravaganza

after the kickoff and the playoff
after the last truck commercial
after the hard-sell
and the hardball
the holographic
performers
scintillating uberstrange powers
of beauty and charisma
to manufacture
waves of awe
zing back
into the projectors
and the stage folds back
into zero space

after the Space Force
receives the holy signal
thousands of space-warriors
in woodland camo plunge head first
from of the junkyard-sky
as if shaken
from giant orbiting
salt-shakers

leave this alone
they must wear woodland camo
because our space warriors must show up
as envisioned
by the designers
of the post-post-American-dream
and they must not be denied their day

against the blue heights
of their precipitous
fall from on high
headfirst
at attention
for we will have reached
our karmic
saturation of no return
the exclusive
miserable
concussive
explosive
self-destructive
blood-red
white-white
bruise-blue
of the starry end-run
final hypnotic
medicine show
will end this way

and then something
completely different will happen
like a bird will let a feather fall
but give us this
for our tired broken God’s sake
our million
footprints of
boots in the sky
we must and will
have our vacuous way
in woodland camo