American Dream

I watch the joggers play the symphony of the running man, left foot, right foot, left, and right again in sync, just as the seconds to the minutes. They are stepping on the strings of cracks on the sidewalk, filling their lungs with infinite breath, feeding themselves oxygen with each breath as they contemplate, while in motion, living the American dream.

I watch cars Gallup as the horses pull the engines, making destinations possible. Dreamers watch the glass of the tall buildings glisten, watching their lifestyles be reflected by the monetary that brings every inch of satisfaction to the simple mind.

Is this the American Dream? Missing the spring blossom of meaning, settling for desire, committing the treason of mortality, and disregarding the cost of selling the greatest gift for marketed ideologies.

I watch The Jogger, The Fancy, and the Jones's. Is this the American Dream? I watch the gold glimmer over the eyes of the dreamers in the city as it flashes and rusts as the jogger's breath fades. Blow, blow, the dreams of the city blow, blow. The wind carries the question: Is this the American Dream?