by David Radavich
Fake me.
Let me be plastic,
bottled, recyclable.
Give me a new
face, body aerobic,
my own best
weight.
Another persona
entirely, costume elastic
and neon and gun
in the eyes
laughing silly.
Mind in a flashing
sacred chest.
America, I love you:
Nothing we manufacture
is less than ourselves.
David Radavich's poetry publications include Slain Species (Court Poetry Press, London), By the Way (Buttonwood Press, 1998), and Greatest Hits (Pudding House Press, 2000), as well as individual poems in anthologies and magazines. His plays have been performed across the U.S. and abroad, including five Off-Off-Broadway productions. He also enjoys writing essays on poetry, drama, and contemporary issues.
