And America, too. And all us goddamned sinners and the ones that didn’t stop us from sinning out of love. And the mornings and the evenings and all the funerals and parades. And the hatred and lies and the piles of donations and the water which will rise of its own accord. All those broken soldiers and the park benches with the initials of young love carved into their faces. And the history books and the gallows and the Colt .45 that tamed the west. Jesus, too. And the misfits and the coders and drunks in hallways who could not make it to their beds.

Shallow graves and deep pockets; God bless you, America. The Wampanoag and the Clovis and Vinnie from Bayside. Fishermen and widows and no-longer-Nazi rocket scientists and shortstops. Hitchhikers and serial killers, and cops and whores, and oilmen and trappers. And all these motherfucking rivers with their motherfucking gamblers. Beer and whiskey and hatchets and war and all of it America.

God bless us all, all us sinners.