My name is Libertas
better known as Lady Liberty little known as spoken word poet and bossy, opinionated bronze bitch Not that anyone asked; after all I am just a Statue I am just a woman I was built by men to be silent accessory to the crimes I witness posed with tablet tucked under arm, feet striding forward, torch lifted high, enlightening the world just, not too brightly lest all the immigrant flies fly here with the intention to stay I was once emancipator, patron of once-enslaved free and their pileus caps of liberty an abolitionist cap Davis denied to me, rather gave me a crown and I thought we were celebrating the end of a monarchy? Thought the broken chains at my feet was the awakening of democracy but it still seems y'all are still asleep Seems that y'all don't care that I mean to welcome the tired, poor, homeless masses yearning to breathe free because I'm your convenient propaganda pin-up my face co-opted and stamped on every call to every war for this country where an aristocratic wealthy spit pennies on the streets, call it charity call it government assistance call it trickle-down economics as people in Flint die from lead poisoning I don't know what I stand for now
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Queens
My 718 playground Trick-or-treat fall bounty Chain swing sidewalk chalk cradle Schoolyard for scabby knees and hiding at the neighbors from the cool burn of belt buckle SMACK Minefield sidewalk every crack could snap my mother in half so, travel by skipping See the world by tree-climbing and failing to reach that bluebird nest Fall and bleed many times while looking for chocolate in high shelves Dream of running away Run away, but get no further than the screen door get spanked for trying Shiver at empty shoes swaying from telephone lines sight most chilling by lamplight wonder where the children had gone if they could survive in this city barefoot A quiet sets in
paper-weights my chest I am light as a suggestion lonesome as an hour after close in this sports bar that doesn't know how to treat my kind of thirst Escape is not what I'm lusting; I think I'm hoping for home, so as the beery crowd sounds rise, swell the voices in me bite down, taste blood and finally, I open to a blank page click my pen write until the words take a shape that I recognize tonight was a stomach ache i cooked myself
i did all the right things: waited my turn for the pot boiled, salted, simmered chopped half an onion, pinched my plant for basil rinsed out arrabbiata, set aside glass for recycling chopped a quarter melon gave my dog the rinds left the sink empty and drying rack full so that insomnia could have me for supper graduated without 4.0
without The Very Important Award without acceptance letter without speech without salary without much interest in what said at Commencement or friend to distract while sitting through without Linguistics degree or Nature publication much less, thesis in fiction writing without my name on a brick or conversational Spanish without Them—no, not even Her without closure without fame without wishing I could start over graduated with self-made degree with poetry with pockets and an extra inch or two in heels with medication with big-hearted little dog back at the apartment with Honors and Distinction and a touch of Relief with love down the block, a text away with overcast sky and broken promise of rain with blood searching the sea of blue gowns for me with pimple, just one with humility with hope with dying seedlings, overwatered by my hand |
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