The Fieldstone Review

American Ways

by Zach Klebaner

We doubt doctors and dance
to the melody of 
doom; this is Reality 

Rocking us from deathly
sleep into the waking
of communal sense, these

Threads are without number;
we all lay in the nest
so we must assemble

Else, abominations
are to solidify 
like the trying tundra of

The mainland’s heart of
strictly selfish stupor.
Slice that heart and Heaven 

Will be found; it will be
yours and mine too, for through
each other we can all 

Awaken inner light. 
Let this earthly house be 
a musical place of

Personal poetry and 
companioned romps. Let the 
world wrap its arms around 

Our broken bodies in
search of sweet communion.
Let us clap to the tune 

Of Earth’s elements
let us flick furious
flames to both evil and

Deadly ignorance, both 
disease and wicked treatments
of this homely soil

For Earth was our Heaven

and there will never be
another, so let us 

Clean, convene, and come to 
the divine center of
every religion’s 

Electric essence: the
unity of all of
the precious peoples

Upon this planet in 
need of purifying from
who we were before this

Doom drummed up this doorway
leaving us to answer:
will we walk together?