Amy Gong Liu's poem "America" appears in Issue No.55: Under Pressure.
AMY GONG LIU
I was made a citizen in the uterus. This is
true; I asked the internet. I read thousands
of pages about how to keep the door
locked at night. Google: how exactly to
vote. Answer: it depends on the state, also
the mindset. Jerry, down the street, tells me
that everything is a byproduct of
everything, even the water. Here, by the
dirtiest, I overlook the rich and the rich
overlook me, drinking arsenic from their
sinks. I am not always concerned
about my dreams or the bombs.
At least someone is always awake
to talk about the violence,
to convince me to press
the beet-red button on my remote.
There are days where I watch
their faces to relax myself at night,
these electric heroes of my pillow,
and as I turn the weight of
my cheeks into the cold,
my guts entangle with their words.
I could get used to the
shrieks of my neighbors.
In this country, we are all made
out of the same material,
and this night is sewn out
of this same prideful doubt.
AMY GONG LIU is a Chinese-American writer based in the San Francisco Bay Area. Her work has been featured/is forthcoming in Poetry Northwest, the Rupture, the Rumpus, Empty Mirror, RHINO Poetry, and more. She thinks too much (or perhaps too little).
Read the other poems, stories, and art from Ruminate's Issue 55: Under Pressure.
Comments will be approved before showing up. We don't allow comments that are disrespectful or personally attack our blog writers.