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[Music intro]
LYNNE THOMPSON: Hello! My name is Lynne Thompson, Poet Laureate for the City of Los Angeles, and I’m so happy to welcome listeners to this installment of Poems on Air, a podcast supported by the Los Angeles Public Library. Every week, I’ll present the work of poets I admire, poets who you should know, and poets who have made a substantial and inimitable contribution to the art and craft of poetry.
LYNNE THOMPSON: Poems on Air is not only happy to spotlight the poets of Los Angeles, of California and beyond, but also to showcase West Coast publishers. One of those is Nomadic Press located in Oakland, California, which published James Cagney’s Martian: The Saint of Loneliness, winner of the 2021 James Laughlin Award from the Academy of American Poets. In addition to this honor, Cagney, a Cave Canem Fellow, won the PEN Oakland 2019 Josephine Miles Award.
LYNNE THOMPSON: Today’s poem is "Found in America: Bad Apples" by James Cagney
"Found in America: Bad Apples"
American history is the story of demonic possession. Servile killers of sinister power. Mass murderers divinely blessed and guided to manifest their own destiny— which involved enslaving and killing millions. Satan wears the other’s face. Others have always been expendable since they stand in the way of the American Gods’ imperial march to war— wars sponsored and red carpeted wars waged over fuel and false flag operations. Most Americans write off unprecedented state terrorism as a series of aberrations carried out by bad apples. Bad apples torching cities of civilians to death with cluster bombs of napalm. Americans charbroil cities under infrared ashes and uranium tar, then go to lunch possessed by the delusions of our own God-blessed-goodness. We grew up under the bomb, under orders (whose orders?) then discriminate against radiated ethnic children leaving them to smolder for decades and die while we giggle-hide under desks then wax nostalgic about Black Rain over mimosa brunch. For Americans, innocence is a secular faith. Brain rattling games our national religion. What are we really? Hyenas with polished masks, conical incisors and fangs alternating, red, white, blue. Red as blood. Blood on every street corner. Blood rides on the shoreline Blood in our pockets—Blood on the tracks. Blood on a former mother’s dress. Blood on her face.
LYNNE THOMPSON: The Los Angeles Poet Laureate was created as a joint program between the City’s Department of Cultural Affairs and the Los Angeles Public Library and this podcast is available wherever you get your podcasts. Thanks for listening!
[Music outro]
- Back to Poems on Air: Episode 80
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