If I were a country, our flag would be [undefined]

women wouldn’t need
to wear me
on bikinis
& men wouldn’t
need to feel
any bigger
to slap my sticker
on their pickup truck bumpers
like security blankets
as they traverse
from point a to points
b, c, d & f
school kids would rise
quick & early
repeating my words
of affirmation
unashamed
& no little boy
will look up in the lunchroom
wonder why the soldiers’ flag
hangs over
his mac’n’cheese mouth
the flag that laughed
when his cousins were teargassed
on the soccer pitch
there’d be no school deans
wearing apartheid support pins
and no crooked judges
who rise like weeds from the ivies
to perch as kings
in their high-rise chambers, hawking
books praising my name
no one will even need to
there will be no me me me

If we were a country
our flag would be
[still deciding]
if we’re better represented
by a triangle or circle
& we’re certain
a rectangle just
will not do
we’ve got time
we’ve got everything
we aren’t basic nylon
we are crochet
we are busy hands
grandma knowledge
cornucopias of fresh fruit
seeds & dried everythings
we are Sunday morning
watered plants
paper bags filled
with ‘tater skins for tonight’s mash
we are radio presets
we are phonebook booster seats
long drives to the sea
hotdog truck lunches
plastic thermos, pinot grigio-casked naps
we are venturing out to collect hermit crabs
passing soccer balls along the waterline
we are where we all go
to be free

Agenda Item 25-9746: Raising the White & Blue Blues Villanelle

Went down to the city, told them don’t raise that flag.
Mister Mayor’s testy, his plans got corkscrewed.
Want it to be easy, but hate has a price tag.

Emails school commissioners “Re: That Killers’ Rag.”
Never forget first nights, City Hall bathed in blue.
Went down to the city, told them don’t raise that flag.

Meeting officials with what-if ways to walk it back.
Afraid to cross the Big Boss, voters stand to lose.
Want it to be easy, but power has a price tag.

They say they’re for victims, we see brothers in bags.
Spotlight on their motives, politics see-through.
Went down to the city, told them don’t raise that flag.

Officials come armed with propaganda trips to brag.
Cross-town mayor’s, councilmen, all the county’s who’s-who.
Want it to be easy, but greed has a price tag.

They call it Democracy, stuffing green in their bags.
Sure it could be, essential elements misconstrued.
Went down to the city, told them don’t raise that flag.

Signaled alternate routes, the Mayor then hijacked.
Resurrected his plan, not a sentence struck through.
Want it to be easy, but ego has a price tag.

Who cares what it costs, no time for camouflage.
We’re the thorns prodding them: Our Kids Matter Too.

Went down to the city, told them don’t raise that flag.
Want it to be easy, and mother’s love—the endless pit it has. . .