Lance Newman

 
Fuel

 

Proud security moms bray at yellow-ribbon parties: “I lost track when Nixon passed. My fat sags like water in a glass. I'm not the swimming type.” One lectures: the Milky Way shows God's sweat and tears. Red, white, and blue bunting swathes her TV cabinet. She pats out hamburgers and greases a skillet. Some grunt in his raked Dodge truck sits high as a knight. He’s got his game face on, and vanity tags: CHAMP. His tailgate reads “Jet Noise, the Sound of Freedom.” Chump.

  (c)Newman 2006