Start reimagining 
that flag
is a door anytime
you see it 
upended. See it
as a locked door
with a code
to enter. 

Start picturing
an eagle
in tears, starving
because it’s exhausted
and cannot feed
with its wings up
and its talons full
like that for all
these years.

Start wondering
what’s under 
your Uncle Sam’s 
hat, why he
looks so pissed
as he points at you:
you thought you
were tight, after all
you’re family or
so you were told.

Start wondering
where that dollar bill
has been, where
they’ve all been. Start
thinking about them
in your pocket, your hand,
resting on your bare skin;
who paid for what with them
before they came to you.

Start imagining
how hard
you will have to kick
to take down that door.
Think about what might be on
the other side
until your foot
twitches without you
willing it.

About Tony Brown

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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