We stand at the end of out Raging, our bodies a testament Naked, open handed, you spit On us and our bleeding, you kick Closed the door to the hospital.
We stand at the inn of outrage Gleaming, white and brown hands Holding square of light, lettered— You spit on our alphabet. You storm At our colors, closing the more
That we thought we were due. That Now, inside the rage, we stand out With no bargain, no pleas, now we place Our fists in a circle, our money in other Pockets. We kick the door down.
Did you think you could hide in your tower In rage at our difference, scorn for our poverty? We hold the square outside your hotel, the light Gleaming off the white pillars of the house. We seep like outrage through a crowd.
We are the dearly held, dearly bought, The dearest America. You cannot hold us in. You cannot kill our darlings. You cannot Stop this immigration because we are already Inside the outrage, daring to come out.
Elizabeth (Betsy) Aoki completed her MFA at the University of Washington. She has received grants and fellowships from the City of Seattle, Artist Trust Foundation, Jackstraw Writers Program, and a Hedgebrook residency in 2014. Her publications include the chapbook Every Vanish Leaves Its Trace by Finishing Line Press, the Asian American female poets anthology Yellow as Turmeric, Fragrant as Cloves, and in such places such as The Seattle Times,Nassau Review, dislocate, Terrain.org, The Midway Journal, Phoebe, Poetry East, Enizagam, Seattle Review, Poetry Northwest, Calyx, Asian Pacific Journal, and Hawai’i Pacific Review.