in america,
I text my sister before I leave
the house. she is the back
up plan & the pre-backup plan
to my safety plan. my mother
need not know of these things. my father
has already died
in america,
a cloud of witnesses
uses smartphones to record
silver bracelets clasped around my wrists
& justifiable alleged-ness plastered
in white
guilt: the mug shot, the mental break-
down, the juvenile choices
that only certain
juveniles can make
in america,
i am a voice under the sea
blowing bubble words that white boys pop
with brass teeth
in america,
i call us brave.
what else would you call those
who rise at dawn to fight
this daily hostility towards our existence — Free?
73