February the Tenth. Opus and the Daily Practice. Majestic.

America Is For Sale. Take her purple mountains carved with the faces, now unrecognizable. We don’t need them anymore. America is for sale. See that hazy Pacific Coast, flocked with animals and evergreens. We got the land at a bargain. We can sell it low. America is for Sale. Those deep woods of our southern heartlands: see the place where Blues was born from suffering and pain. We have extracted the heart so the lands are first come-first serve. If you pass this up, you pass on a bargain. America is On Sale. These fly-over-states: our rust belts, and dust bowls. We are too tired now to work them, so we could bundle them all together and give you a slush price. Did you hear that? America is for sale! Our Capitol too. See the monuments for reflection, the unmarked graves. See the Chambers that used to rattle with fervent progress, when we cared. Once they were a proud people. Buy a ticket. America is for sale and every one must go. FDM