America
wakes me up
in the middle of the night
and wants a drink of water
in its favorite sippy cup
with the “I Voted” logo
on the side.
America
throws a tantrum
when I say it’s really dirty
and there’s fresher water
in this glass, and don’t you
want to be a big kid,
all grown up, and then
you can sleep better?
America
keeps screaming,
“I Voted! I Voted!”
so I wash the grime off the cup
and hand over the cup
and America drinks from the cup
and then I take back the cup
and sneak a sip myself from the cup
while America tucks itself back in
and falls asleep.
I stay up
a long time after
with such odd taste in my mouth,
my eyes soaked
with shame at my lack of faith
and my honest terror
of what I’ve consumed.
I go look at America sleeping,
realize again
that we can’t possibly
be family.