I live and dine off a small plate of freedom.
I eat their sacred flag; my spittle blends
with stars and stripes into a bilious puddle of gray history.
Then I pick the remnants from my teeth
to spit upon the embers.
Or maybe, nothing now more happy,
more germane to my inalienable pursuit
than to pluck those stars and set them free again;
to peel those stripes and paint your body
white, red and royal blue – the dyes of our equality.
Then, at last, to wrap us in re-whitened flag
and bind us to some oaken tree of liberty:
now you and I in “sidious,” frank fraternity.
Come kiss me, kiss me quick, you tree-bound beauty!
And let me be content to know the stars and stripes of you.