Poetry: America Loves You

By Majekodunmi Oseriemen Ebhohon

THERE is no friend in the world
like America.

When America loves you,
you know it.

There are documents,
meetings,
men with very important phones
who know your name.

And the benefits are excellent.

The uniforms are quite smart,
and the Benjamins are good too.

They give you a laminated badge
that practically guarantees
a front-row seat on history.

What more could a friend ask for?

Of course,
America believes in order.

When the time comes to leave,
there are lists to be followed,
weight limits to observe,
and only so much room
inside an American cargo plane.

Naturally,
the laptops go first.

The files are important.

The embassy poodles
have spent years
in government service.

Thousands of translators
can wait on the tarmac
with their badges.

America has always been
a country of priorities.

And you should be proud
to have served a nation
so lovable that when it leaves,
its friends will climb the walls
for one last chance
to leave with it.

So keep doing your part.

Tap the phones
of your cousins tonight.

Point out the back doors
of your childhood neighbours.

Give them the names
of the people
who still believe
their country belongs to them.

Do it proudly.

You are helping
a great nation
identify its friends.

And when the big C-17
finally arrives,

do not worry
if the cabin doors
are closed.

There is always a way.

The undercarriage
is beautifully designed.

The wheels are wide.

Three friends
can sit there comfortably
if they know how to hold on.

Just grip the cold metal
when the engines start.

America will take care of you.

Once the landing gear
snaps shut
at thirty thousand feet,

your country
will finally look small enough
to disappear beneath you,

and you will drop back down to it
like a used piece of tissue paper.