POLITICAL Poem: America, where are we?, by Jasmine Rico

An Open Letter to My Nation

I don’t think you understand the greed.
Behind bombs dropping in the Middle East.
A run for oil and infertile land.

The bottom line,
the end of times

World War 2 never really analyzed

Democratic poltergeist

This conversation is larger than you and me
and I think we could all agree
This is far bigger than the eye can see
This is bigger than Kim Jong-un

Empty threats glamorized,
full-on war, patronized

Overstep of control
constitution, who?

Where are we, America?
Are you awake yet?
Do we see the divide yet?

You let a capitalist take over our office and convince you that the first allies betrayed you
when we took the crown, the Roman states were against you
the natives and slaves took up arms with you
we pushed them back, but you wrote us out
And now you try to wall us in and keep our kin for your kiln
A German American and his Russian wife are set to hover up above the house and shield their
oligarchy while staying fungi-free.
Unlike you and me, we have front-row seats to the Mushroom Cloud Symphony.

Where do we stand, America?
A man who has overstepped his allowance
A house divided
A nation volatile
We let one man with a bad tan convince each other that he is more intelligent than you, and I
and now he’s bombed the Middle East

This will be the 7th war my family has served in
We will lose good old men and naive youngins
but this is his second generation, and they never served
He dodged the draft in Vietnam
He’ll dodge the blowback of his actions

While we blame each other for our accents
I sound like fritters and chitlins when I’m drunk
I sound like Botox and Erewhon when I’m sober
and a-Si, yo soy Chicana when I’m bothered

That has never been a problem before, but this is year 25 of my life, and this season is leaving me screaming
I feel hopeless and dry-aged
I find myself stuck in the middle of AmeriKKKa and America.
Two communities who deny me, too white, too brown.
Just not right.

But right is right,
and wrong is wrong.
Letting our country suffer for the rich,
We might as well hand him a crown.

Tread on me,
I have no say
Our congress sold us on eBay.

In Defeat,
Jasmine Rico