On the Train Home from Your Place, the Person to My Left Threatens to Hurt Me for Being Queer, so I Go Home and Plant a Tree

Amy Gong Liu

And it is
a lemon tree,
whose fruits
I pick in
the sun 
before the
squirrels 
get to them,
and like the
squirrels, I
suck their 
insides dry
looking for
miracles,
and like
Emily or
Lillian or
Mary, I
sit by the
window 
and wonder
about the 
firewood,
and like a
lady, I am
terrible, and
like a lady,
I am still.