Matthew Olzmann: The Nachos in this Bar Are Like Regular Nachos Except They Use Pork Rinds Instead of Tortilla Chips

This is how my boundless heart seizes
with patriotism. To the American
table, the entrepreneur brings innovation;
the consumer brings a willingness to sacrifice
oneself in the temple of temporary pleasures. 

Combine originality with fearlessness and desire,
the chemical reaction is similar
to water and carbon dioxide merging with sunlight,

except instead of photosynthesis, you get a bald eagle
selling military-grade Viagra and raw sirloin.
Instead of oxygen and sugar and greenery, you get men
racing westward in search of gold or oil.  

In the deep fryer of human nature,
our world is changed, made new.
Did we need this? Who can say?

Next-day shipping becomes 30-minute drone delivery.
The smart car becomes driverless.
The air you breathe becomes an algorithm
to monitor your feelings and prescribe upgraded feelings.

Ambition ripens until my life, which seem so perfect yesterday,
now feels dislocated and quaint. Always, a better version of me

plots to replace the current version of me.
Like that boy with wings who fluttered too close to the sun.
Except my ambition is more like some guy on his garage
with a plastic cape and a bike helmet,
believing the sky

somehow belongs to him. He’s ready to make the leap.
And why shouldn’t he have it all? sing the birds above him.
Yes! Why shouldn’t he have it all? sing the rocks below.


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