Know Your Rights

I have the right
to breathe if I do it quietly.
Panting makes
the body less brilliant
and more brilliant bodies make
the nation brighter.

I have the right
not to be sad. There are sad
people elsewhere, but not here.
Sadness is a function of
being elsewhere. Sadness
is a face of foreign jealousy.

I have the right
to be a foreigner if I can forget how it looks
to be one. I have the right
to pray to God in my tongue
as long as I understand that God
speaks only one.

I have the right to a homeland,
to the colors of the flag
and the afterburners’ red glare;
to smell Tibetan incense in the mall, or to marvel
at a temporary ethnic frieze
draped on the town hall.
I have the right to patriotism,
to enjoy the parade
(if not the right to admit
silently, not out loud, that
I cannot explain
why I am still applauding).

I seem to recall other rights
but they are historic
and mostly decorative.

Late at night I boil them down
and make a poultice
against the pain of missing them.

About Tony Brown

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A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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