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Angela of Liberty
         by Carrie Albert
She wears an American flag like a long
skirt wrapped around her waist.
I thought that was illegal. In the ‘60s
a friend hung a flag for a curtain.
Police came to take it down.
Maybe she is protesting America.
We wait at a bus stop. My personal
challenge to talk to one stranger daily,
I nonchalantly ask about her flag/skirt.
She says the red and white stripes
symbolize daylight. White stars
on blue are night. The design was first
created by her Native American ancestors.
She wants to broadcast diversity.
A thin silver stick pierces her nose.
She sleeps on a mat in a shelter
for 13 years now. The social workers
are waiting for her to die. Her goal
is to teach a drill team like one
she belonged to during high school.
Her name is Angela. She could be
an angel who will fly into stars hidden
by Seattle’s bright burning sky.


Carrie Albert is a multifaceted artist and poet. Her works have been published or upcoming in many diverse journals, some with curious names including: cahoodaloodaling, FishFood, Weird Sisters, Sheila-Na-Gig and Penhead (where she is a permanent fixture as Poet-Artist in Residence). She lives in Seattle with her poodles, rabbits, pigs, deer and an elephant (her farm of papier-mâché projects).
Picture
© 2023 Up the Staircase Quarterly
Photo from Jurassic Blueberries
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