America was never just great
It was flawed first
It is practically an accident
But better here than India
The explorers came, and faster than a cinnamon skinned Arawak Native American woman could yell “the colonialists are coming!” The men in lily-white shirts shoved the unsuspecting indigenous off their land.

The explorers were as lost as Louis and Clark without Sacajawea
But a determined pedophelic peony planted itself in the deep brown soil
The invasive plant started a genocidal streak all over the continent
In return it won a couple cities and holiday and the Native Americans were bestowed with accidental exposure to smallpox and enslavement.  

To repay them we allotted reservations where people live in crippling poverty, put Sacajawea on a coin and Pocahontas in a movie yet we cannot fully allow them into our society, our neighborhoods, our schools because they are uncivilized.

The only people who have any business being on this continent are uncivilized. What a shame.

America still is not great
It still shows scars and old behaviors from the 1400s, 1800s, 60s and even yesterday. The Band-Aid was applied but the wound never washed, never sewn up.
So it sets, burgundy bruises and gore gaping at our present, our future.
America’s past is far darker than anyone’s skin but is accepted while brown complexions are not. America’s roots are not up for discussion, white supremacy is not real.

We are imagining things.

We weren’t turned away at white linoleum restaurant counters, we haven’t been isolated from the rest of the country, our sufficiency in the English language hasn’t been questioned, our bodies haven’t been sexualized, politicized
It’s all in our heads.

Our heads, spinning with fiction, are buried
Sinking towards the earth’s core, waiting to come out of the other side where oppression is not pressing down on us like a molten red brick wall. Our brown heads will come up out of the grass and be greeted by the sun and all will welcome us.

There was chatter reflecting off the water just like the moon. The Milky Way was swimming with us, wrapped in algae and moss. We had no swimsuits, only spontaneity and laughter. We were far away from trivialities where there was no light pollution, you could see so far outward into everything. We were not looking up, we were looking out at what we are part of. Light, so much light. When our thoughts were finally chilled like iced lemonade, we ran through bushes and flailed in the mud to the car. We drove. Once sitting on our bed, a delicious thought bubbled into reality.
              We discussed it, unanimously deciding on this nights adventure...we'd enjoy the first rays of the morning while seating comfortable at Sacajawea Peak.
              Eager legs kicked and finally slept…too soon later, a buzz of a telephone awoke us, then another. I bounced out of the covers and to the kitchen to prepare a hurried breakfast of peanut butter and fruit roll ups for us, nutrition was priority. Then the clock blinked 3 AM.
Whines squeaked from tired mouths, but excitement prevailed. We packed into our seats and struggled to keep our eyes open, but the drive was bumpy and our sore butts kept us from forgetting the purpose of our trip. We were there to make our lives radical, and you can’t sleep in moments like these. 4 AM screamed at me, we had to hurry. I plowed my way up that mountain as the sun painted the tips of the mountains red. We crossed streams, tripped on rocks, marveled at climate change and the disappearance of the snow we had skied on just a week before. As the incline increased to nearly vertical, we met up with the mountain goats. Their tiny hooves danced on the faces of cliffs and I stood on the trail not more than a meter away. They smiled at us, said good morning, and we went on our way, huffing it up the face. As the sun’s light began to engulf the sky, we watched as the snow capped ridgeline shined pink and gold. A mountain shades us but as we reach the peak, the sun splashes our face, I felt godly. The sun has risen, and so have we. This is why we are alive; this is why we are happy. The valley below us still dozes, and we sit on top a mountain wide-awake. There is no item I could ask for that could ever give me this happiness. I do not climb mountains so that the world can see me, but so I can see the world…and it is so beautiful.

I. A1 Love

Adam drips steak sauce
Leaves you, trails, closed dorm room doors
And walks with no shame

II. Ten Dollar Bet

The gas light is on
Passing Exit 8, screaming,
(I) know we'll make it

III. Class and Ketchup

"It will **** you," but
While you eat chicken nuggets
I take your picture

IV. Jamaica Plain

At midnight sharp, we
Can not park, but pose with trees,
Find yellow houses.

V. Lost in Boston

Sacajawea
******, so I asked nicely to
Cut in front of cars.

VI. Winthrop

The "No Dumping" sign
Was where you ******, then made me
Come smell the ocean.

There was chatter reflecting off the water just like the moon. Th­e Milky Way was swimming with us, wrapped in algae and moss. We h­ad no swimsuits, only spontaneity and laughter. We were far away from trivialities where there was no light pollution, you could see so far outward into everything. We­ were not looking up, we were looking out at what we are part of.­ Light, so much light. When our thoughts were finally chilled lik­e iced lemonade, we ran through bushes and flailed in the mud to the car. We drove. Once sitting on our bed, a delic­ious thought bubbled into reality.
We discussed it, unanimously deciding on this nights adventure...we'­d enjoy the first rays of the morning while seated comfortably at the top­ of Sacajawea Peak.
Eager legs kicked and finally­ slept…too soon later, a buzz of a telephone awoke us, then another. I bounced out of the covers and to the ki­tchen to prepare a hurried breakfast of peanut butter and fruit roll ups. Nutrition was priority. The clock blinked 3 AM.
Whines squeaked from tired mouths, but excitement­ prevailed. We packed into our seats and struggled to keep our eyes open, but the drive­ was bumpy and our sore butts kept us from forgetting the purpose­ of our trip. We were there to make our lives radical, and you can’t sleep in moments like these­. 4 AM screamed at me, we had to hurry. I plowed my way up the five miles of that mo­untain as the sun painted the tops of the mountains red. We crossed streams, trippe­d on rocks, marveled at climate change and the disappearance of the snow we h­ad skied on just a week before. As the incline increased to nearl­y vertical, we met up with the mountain goats. Their tiny hooves danced on the faces of cliffs a­nd I stood on the trail not more than a meter away. They smiled at us, said good mo­rning, and we went on our way, huffing it up the face. As the sun’s light began­ to engulf the sky, we watched as the snowcapped ridgeline shined pink and gold. A mountain shaded us but as we reached the peak, the sun splashed our face, I felt god­ly. The sun had risen, and so had we. This is why we are alive; this is why we are happy. The valley below us still dozed, and we sat atop a mountain wide-awake. There is no item I could ask for that could ever give me this happiness. I do not climb mountains so that the world can see me, but so I can see the world and it is so beautiful.

On the backs of the women before us
Stands legacy and triumph,
Women like Anna Komnene  
Who saved her father’s reputation, knew the classics,
And supervised hospitals,
Proving you can be royalty and brilliant,
Empress Wu,
The only known empress in early Chinese history,
Who challenged the norms for women liberation,

On the backs of the women before us,
Are the Roasies,
The strong women who joined industry and steel during World War 2,
Doing a man’s job,
Showing women have muscle,
A group known as the night witches
Women who bombed ****’s in the darkest hours,
Showing women can fight,

On the backs of the women before us,
Sacajawea,
Who at 16 trekked the mid-west with Lewis and Clark with a baby on her back,
Proving women can endure,  
Kathrine Johnson,
Who proved to the world gender and color doesn’t matter,
Anyone can use mathematics for the growth of humanity,
Rosa Parks, who looked into the eyes of a white man,
And refused to give up her seat,
Proving that women can revolt,
Nellie Bly,
Who mothered investigative journalism,
Florence nightingale,
Who without her nursing wouldn’t have its roots,

On the backs of the women today,
Is Malala who at 15 was shot for standing up for a girl’s right for education,
Or Gretta Thunberg who at 17 is fighting for a greener earth,

On the backs of the women before us,
And on the backs of the women today,
Are women showing girls that tomorrow and the day after,
They can look into the eye of a man and say
Try me.. I’ll go far