Chauvinism has always been red, white, and blue.
We know this, of course.
We live on a planet the shape of a human back.
While others build paper towel houses around us,
we stay safe from the big bad wolf,
hiding behind tombstones--
their tombstones.

Our televisions flash us big grammy grins and
celebrities tell us with a caviar smile,
"Don't be a feminist, that's a bit strong.
Bra burning lesbianism-- It's very unglamorous."
"How distasteful would it be, to be poor?"
"Here's another diet, in case you want more."
"So glad I have money, I promise to donate
5 cents off every purchase that you make."
Slogans and slurs
blend right in,
as we learn the cultures of the 1%;
trying to cram ourselves in with them, and
forget the rest.

Maybe sometimes we hear a line echo up,
bouncing off of the glass on our bus ride home. 
Maybe something--
just over the line of what we find
funny--
strikes up a memory. Of our third grade history class
on the 13th Amendment--
of our sixth grade health class
on date rape--of our
ninth grade acquaintance
that used "gay" as an insult--
and maybe one of these extremes crashes nebulas inside of us,
all lime green and hot pink and filthy crimson,
maybe we remember what our peers
sitting on the bus next to us
could be grappling with.
The boy scratching the binder
strapped around his chest,
a girl kissed by the sun that's feeling
like she's staring down the bayonet of a loaded gun.
This is the caviar smile.

Our opportunities opened by our dispositions
slip through our hair like gloss.
We watch grime game shows,
and sleep under stomachache umbrellas,
and we always convince ourselves it's okay.
How many times do we have to hear a bullet hitting bone
or the broken slam of a gavel
to know it isn't okay.
When will we stop teaching our children, convincing our friends, telling ourselves to just
"let it go."

America, Americans, the free and the brave.
But you can't come to our clubhouse! We have been taught to
love everyone!
Except you.