that first dragon was
a ribbon of blood;
that first grass was
a river of mud;
that first sky
was a streak of spit;
that first flag
was a wound just split;
the first men who hauled it
tore it out their gaping hearts;
the first wives who wore it
bore it from their just-raped parts;
the bastard child
of love and hate
that first flag
was hard as slate
a kite's sharp beak
a harp's wild shriek
a brittle tongue
a battle won -
like coal it burned
it had no choice
that flag was birthed
because no voice
was ours
those powers
we had, forgotten
that first flag
took what was rotten
and burned it
spurned it
spun it into this:
first flag
our flag
wrongs righted by its fist.
