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

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