Is America exceptional among the world’s tribes?
And if so, which God made it that way?
Did we have our own star dying for us, alone,
Pushing pubic clouds baked and compressed most rare,
Drawn to our Sun and rocky planets to fare?
Was the best channeled for Earth through roiled vape,
Expelling the choicest dust and gas for continent to tape?
Storied best for a virgin land – predestined before Big Bang?
Was it passed and baked like batter in an oven of excellence,
Yes, mantle melted at a million degrees F not C?
And we cooled better, our proto Pangaea West.
While offshore Pangaea North, huge tides, close-Moon pulled,
Pushed limpid molecules surging under craggy coast,
And acid amino mixed with mirthful moves.
Drawn to alkaline vents, kissing us into prettier protocells?
Did He care enough to send his very best with zest,
Of DNA in a protective sack of chromosome care,
Exceptionally evolved until Pangaea stopped its spread?
Readied and seasoned with dissent, and venture-bound,
A few waved good gonad flags and coursed the sea.
Blown West on winds of way to Eastern coast so true,
Where land-bridge mutts were seen and soon subdued.
Manifest destined, we pushed them toward unsettled seas,
And later blacks, enslaved, were never called to tea.
It’s only a white dream we say.
Why?
Cause God told us so.
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