red-ash hair hangs in uneven communion
over helter skelter blue irises
a flagrant mockery of the perfection
Her Kind will asphyxiate on.
artfully torn flags she
over sporadically sun-speckled shoulders
national dignity and pageantry
for a t-shirt she washes on Cotton Sturdy.
her scuffed mis-matched combat boots have never
stepped across enemy lines, content to
trample Pod People expectations.
loosely stitched on patches protest all that
her susceptible, soul-deep skin -
precious words she never wastes on the Deaf
in this, her Everytown suburbian neighborhood.
"never settle to be everyone else's darling.
be your own demon."