Portraits of America by Elina Katrin

1.

My mother’s Америка is always sunny.

It’s Floreeda, not Florida. It’s Russian-dubbed Hollywood

flicks from early 2000s.

Sandy beaches and older women

jogging, lifting 3-pound dumbbells, eating mango & dragon

fruit with their boyfriends on top

of yellow Lambos.

It’s fro-yo signs neon, bright lights of the big

city blinding, L.A. L.A. baby, it never rains

in my mother’s Америка.

When I was younger, she told me dreams know

how to walk in Америка, daughters are happier

there in Америка, she said as soon as I move

to Америка my writing would cover the peel

of the big apple, and I would shapeshift from Jasmine

into Aurora here

in Америка.

2.

My sister’s 🐻 άΜ𝕖RᎥ𝔠ά 🌈 is chic & glamorous

It’s JoJo Siwa-colored fountain

drinks &

ASOS graphic tees, it’s a Buzz-

Feed quiz ⏰ which Jonas Brother would you rather

date ⏰ and the right answer

is all of them ‼️ Top 10 new TikTok moves, and she

is not talking Ke$ha, her sound

is modern, beauty

filtered & social.

It’s the land of free

money built on likes and smashing that thumbs

up button.

My sister’s 🐻 άΜ𝕖RᎥ𝔠ά 🌈 lets children

bring iPads to school, and in Russia she is 😒.

Over the phone she begs

to bring her to 🐻 άΜ𝕖RᎥ𝔠ά 🌈

so she can live like Doja Cat

in the “Say So” video.

.3
My father’s أمریكا is expensive. Dollar

signs embroidered, ka-ching! ka-ching! on every

corner.

Love+hate comedy drama, pretzel-twisted,

soaked in mustard, overpriced,

misused & filled

with consumer attitude. My father’s أمریكا 

is the land of Musks & Gateses.

It’s the Amazon conveyer always running,

the country of sin, the nation of money,

it’s the I sent you to this country to be somebody

& you became

a poet. My father’s أمریكا is brutal. Turn away

and it bites, bitter. Through clenched

teeth busted & slithered,

أمریكا broke my father’s

backbone.

He wants me

back.

4.

Mine is forty minutes on hold with doctors,

the soonest appointment is in two

months, but here,

help yourself
to some Oreos, thirteen different kinds.

It’s sunrises on the South Beach

and sunsets at McAfee Knob.

It’s $7.50 Butterbeer at Harry Potter World

and a tempting, Twinkie-paved road,

every bite taking me further

from home. A fairy tale

where Jasmine pays

$65k a year in college tuition.

My America is Funfetti but selfish.

It tears me apart like salt

water taffy.

My America cues an old meme:

expectation vs. reality.

I thought I would party in the U.S.A. with Miley,

but all I do is study

how to survive in the country

where people are tiered and tired,

and every breath turns battle,

until it doesn’t.

elina_katrin.jpeg

Elina Katrin is a poet originally from St. Petersburg, Russia, who now resides in Appalachia. She is an MFA candidate at Hollins University and a baking enthusiast. Her poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in The Emerson Review, Rappahannock Review, Voices & Visions, Gravel, and Prometheus Dreaming. Her twitter handle is @linakatrin.

Abby Michelini