September 30, 2018I Want to Burn the Frat House of America to the Ground
after Jennifer Weiner
Look, America, I have tasted you
before and you taste like beer.
Pabst. Natty Boh. Schlitz.
In a can and warm.
You taste like lemonade powder in vodka,
fire hydrant water collecting in sewers.
America, the beautiful:
don’t you look impossible tonight?
A two-headed coin. You told me
I’m sexy, I’m beautiful, I’m wanted, unwanted, not a 10
but here we are in your bedroom
and I’m a secret. I’m impossible.
Do you know how to be sorry?
I’m a snack, you said, and guess who’s hungry.
America, where are your hands?
You should know: I remember
everything.
You pulled back my elbows
and asked how could anyone
be sure of my face in the dark?
America, you duct taped
my hands to a 40 and said drink
You duct taped my hands to two 40s and took my phone away
You duct taped my two hands and said do something
America, how could you
I want to burn all the frat houses all the America all the ground
I want to America the frat house burning
America, run
America, here is where the burning body turns into ground
America, you could
America, show me
from Poets Respond