in dc, the heart of you, at yet another museum, one of my favorite pastimes
but the quiet created tears for those whose homes were decimated, religion
inserted their mouths, and then those backs were stripped to born you.
you know the rape and trouble they and others before them went through,
make these secrets rumble through your sidewalks.
i read on a wall just before leaving,
“America…needs citizens who love it enough to re-imagine and re-make it”
by Cornel West and my reply to the wall, advocating for your rescue:
what if I don’t like this version of you?
none of the versions of you after genocide.
your birth was death and I’m not sure where we would start.
but sweetheart, if it were up to many of us, we would reform you.
we would take great care with you.
your citizens would include
refugees, immigrants, any being dragged out of your soil.
they went through the desert and water to find this.
to make a home in you. they deserve it too.
license for exposure
give them the license to be the main stars not side chicks,
supporting the supporting stars, the dark skinned latinos aren’t light enough,
the darker skinned blacks aren’t aesthetic enough
they’re not godly enough,
even though I heard before that god made them first.
left them in the earth to grow their roots and they reached all over.
they are the ones not allowed the roles except
maids and gardeners and gangsters and prisoners
the ones with broken english or no english and five minute screen time
or the loyal doorman or cook in a run down shop.
jokes are made on their thick tongue
but learning two languages is more than i can even do right now.
but no stories on why or how they got there and
that others are successful in the country.
instead of giving the curvy, big ass and light skinned latinas
and black girls the main roles,
give the indigneous, the afro latinas, the ebony skinned black girls
the spotlight to show you that we
are apart of the culture too and
it’s not all “spicy mamis” and juicy pussies
and fat thighs and double d’s.
we are more than sex symbols, maids, and gangsters.
we are so much more.
A.I. Ramos is a proud Latinx, intersectional feminist, environmentalist, podcast host, crafter, and author. She has self-published three books and recently released a chapbook Say My Name with Flower Press. She loves getting tattoos and tacos.