Outside It’s America

It’s strange
To grow up
And live in
A country
At a time
When it
Dominates.

I don’t mean
It’s the best
But that it is
Inescapable.

And because it is
It’s hard to see
Clearly.

Now, clearly
I’m talking about
A particular country
And I don’t need
To name it.

You would know
Even if it weren’t 
In the title.

It’s the country
In all the titles.

Good and bad.

We’re about 
Twenty years
Away from it being
A hundred years
Of that.

It’s a hundred years,
Now,
Of it almost 
Being that.

But not quite.

The big struggle 
Internally,
Is to admit that,
That we blew that shot
A hundred years ago.

We made it necessary 
To wait 
Another
Twenty years.

And that twenty years
Is the gulf between us
And everyone else
We haven’t even
Considered.

And so there it is,
Today,
In its present states.

We don’t know
What we are.
The world around us
Doesn’t know.

But everyone tries to guess,
And only muddles it further.

It is what it is,
A thoroughly unsatisfactory answer,
Sure,
But as accurate as it can get.

And something
The history books
Will be tackling
For many years to come.

No credit for tackling it early.
No perspective.
No bonus points
For being there as it happened;
I can tell you now
There are clear agendas at play,
Warped viewpoints.

You always wait
For that unlikely miracle,
Of wisdom coupled with knowledge,
And yet it seems
More than anything,
What we jealously guard
Against.

And I guess
It figures.

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