I love my country. Sure, it needs some work. Just like myself. And just like every single person. And even though my rough spots still need to be smoothed out, I still love myself. I remember being surrounded by men on a hot summer day while urinating in a bathroom in inner city Baltimore. I was alone. I could feel one man’s breath on my neck while the others started laughing. I walked out of that bathroom. I find Baltimore to be a lucid example of my love for America. We all need a bit of work. It’s OK to admit it. But what I won’t do is hate it, or myself, for not being perfect when all the while I know perfect doesn’t exist. Baltimore is a gorgeous city. I can’t wait to go back. In fact, I have, multiple times.
Get a job, you bum! Daddy, why did you say that to that man? He’s a bum. There’s a help wanted sign right over there. But why did you say that to that man? Because he’s a bum and needs a job. Why though? Because he needs a job. Why? What if he’s sick? I don’t care! I work when I’m sick and you’ll work when you’re sick!
And all their necks are bent. Not in any which way. But, only one way. And they bent and they bent. Gobbling up and down as though they were turkeys. When the dark clouds came they scattered and looked at their feet.