I Pledge

Nothing is worse than a history teacher

who forgets the necessity of rebellion.

I sat in a forest of bodies,

all miming the motions of justice.


Being called into a cold hallway:

a tall boy (basketball, perhaps?) crying,

a girl (dual-enrollment, I think?) staring,

and me shaking with rage.


You, sir, cannot give me

detention for not pledging

my allegiance to

a meaningless piece of fabric.


Once the recited words

die off,

the girl behind me

pokes my back,


“Are you some

sort of communist?”

I pause, thinking.

Da. Privyet.


It seems in the

21st century, McCarthyism

is alive and well

in Arizona high schools.

This poem is about: 
My country
Our world


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