The Border © by h.j. recinos

come to the border to see

how the future is written

 

in tears, to look upon the

wounded flesh in sealed

 

cages, mothers dragged

from children, fathers in

 

cells hanging themselves

with grief. come listen at

 

the border to the sociable

talk of uniformed men who

 

whack away at the migrant

poor, listen to them laugh at

 

the asylum seekers slipped

into darkness, watch them

 

pace the day with the barbed

wired words of the rich man

 

suffered up by a misguided

electorate for president. take

 

your first steps into the land

familiar to the bastard Savior

 

from Palestine, etch the faces

without names on your heart,

 

take them to bed tonight, wake

with them at the morning light,

 

learn their Spanish names, let

your eyes weep at the sight of the

 

dismal tax paid jails, get hold of

ethical sanity and rescue from

 

evil gray men, the condemned.