like the pins on my messenger bag
we cry silently
for acknowledgement
we stand stoic
and pray to the gods
for a seat on the evening bus
it’s winter and the teen girls
like the pins on my messenger bag
they point to me and say, hey
as if we were old friends
they say,
we like the pins on your bag
i look at the pins
as if i’d almost forgotten
that they were there
the one that says,
gay rights are human rights
the one that says,
trans is beautiful
the one that says,
fuck trump
the one that says,
read a book and not your phone
the pin for elizabeth warren
and i feel self-conscious
and i believe nakedness is relative
yet i smile
and thank them
think about how someone
could’ve just as easily said
how much they hated me
i mean
this is america after all.
fuck trump
the one that says,
read a book and not your phone
the pin for elizabeth warren
and i feel self-conscious
and i believe nakedness is relative
yet i smile
and thank them
think about how someone
could’ve just as easily said
how much they hated me
i mean
this is america after all.
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