Amanda Holstien (1st place. Poetry. Spring 2010 Writing Contest)
meditate on me.
My mind is a gold mine, meant to be
exploited and exported.
I was meant to be
worn around your neck
or hanging on your chest.
Talk history to me,
I listen as I lie barebacked,
and sink below the concrete’s cracks.
I cower below you,
and long to be trampled under your black boots.
Bestow unto me the legacy of Italy,
And I will no longer be a Jew.
I will listen as you tell me how
Hitler broke your heart in two.
Archives: Spring 2010.