All-American Idolatry

kyra ezikeuzor

For the seventeen years of my existence, I’ve counted fireflies like lines on my fingers, waded in
the marsh, sat below the dogwood, bed of grass, teeth crushing a cut of honeydew, fingers sticky
from the sap. Sat on that bed of grass, I peered out past the thick weeds; beyond the bayou,
beyond the bridge. I snuck a glance at it, that white-sand kingdom.
Sand-people with sand-hair, and pillars of blood-and-blue stitched flags, worshipping the
nighttime bursts of fae lightning: ruby, beetle-indigo.
There, I waded the stream, fingers blistered green by ivies, toes nibbled by the brownback
minnow. When I looked out, past the bridge, past the bayou, my teeth curled. Wanting.
Peach-palm girls with bleached hair and jaguars, sunkissed skin, denim blessings. Daddy’s
money. Golden-haired boys, summer shorts, pin needle hair.
Whataburger after football games, confetti-blessings at homecoming parades. My fingers sticky
from marsh-melon sap, yours sticky from patty-melts, gooey cheese dripping down your chin.
Coke in one hand, burger in the other.

Kyra Ezikeuzor is a high school senior from Texas. For her poetry, she has been awarded the National American Voices Medal from the Scholastic Art & Writing Awards. She has been recognized by Princeton University, published in the America Library of Poetry, and honored with the National Creative Writing Book Award from Hollins University. Inspired by her heritage, and her favorite poets Chimamanda Ngozie Adichie, Chinua Achebe, and Wole Soyinka, Kyra enjoys writing poetry and short stories about nature, culture, and memory. Besides writing, she loves dancing, taking morning walks, and journaling.