from "That Country" in Sorry, Tree, Eileen Myles...

I wanted
to fuck up this
language & blame
its nameless
homeland:
the victors got drunk
they came & came
the words were never
the same again
in the last century
it came to us
to speak American
which means
to speak
where you land
which means
nothing now.
Not proud
but invasive.
Nor the language
not the place
not them
not us
neither an island
not a continent
not a world
a spin without
a home.
An edgy
feeling. A coin
on its
side speaking up