Introduction

How i sang o beautiful like a psalm at church with my mother, her cuban accents scaling up every vowel. How the timber through our bodies mingled, breathing, singing as one with the brass notes of the marching band playing the only song he ever learned in english. How i began to read nichi and doubt god, yet still wished for god to shed his grace on thee and crown thy good with brotherhood. And each verse rising from my god, every exclamation of praise i belted out until my throat heard america and again, America. how i want to sing an beautiful or not, just to be in harmony from sea to shining sea with the only country...