from Alexandra Teague’s America the Beautiful: Thriftstore, lines 10-20, 31-35

fuzzy gloves with pom poms and pockets with real dimes for free

and ticket subs to movies that sound like a good idea of your past–

like maybe that night got lost when this coat did and now you have your hands

in its silk lining like you were born here in this America

where everyone is safe as plastic tumblers and day-glo salad spinners

and no one cares if you walk the aisles in two different shoes like the man

in that children’s book with so many caps on caps on caps on his head

you remember no more story like “America the Beautiful”

was only ever purple mountains crayoned so hard the paper wrapping

had to be peeled back because patriotism meant sacrificing

monarchs and thrones and majesty and one color to rule them all

...

that majesty of the already-gone but refillable like a bin of hats

which maybe was the whole story how the man carried

all of them with him like a country that erects monuments

not only for presidents but also for this-man-was-lynched-hereand-

now-there’s-a-swingset