Land of opportunity
is actually
land of chance
to be born
in the wrong decade
one where you’re
gassed up in gasoline baths
or
encaged by Juan Crow
or
operated by Operation Wetback
or
stripped of your Zoot Suits
or
one
where you are detained
when you should feel enraged
you are free to speak
just not ill against their president
their idol
their dictator
Dear leader,
I fear
no king
no God
especially if you is all you got
Send your army wielding untouchable and invincible
it’s happening again
just the armor is a little bit different
the name isn’t Cortez
but the blood runs imperialism
Conquest means kidnapping
ICE means melt
Resist means rise
Protest means people
I mean us
I mean we
I mean we deserve
respect
so do
the Papi’s in neon long sleeves enduring sunshine every day to sow beautiful pastures that once yielded fields of fruit
so do
the Mami’s bussing it in pristine uniforms to El Toro, Northgate, El Super, but she is the real Superior one
so do
Las señoras—hood abuelitas—limping with reusable bags not meant to be reused, carrying plastic bottles to be recycled for income condensed into cubes fit into pockets pinched for misa, for masa, por más
un poco más
so do
Los señores—hood abuelitos—pushing raspados o mangos o nieve or ringing sweet sounds of summer echoing, beckoning, inviting all to gather over glistening joy to marvel how we made it this far
so do
Los niños,
nuestros niños,
robbing their tongue, now their loved ones.
When will it ever be enough?
When their use is gone, they are called anchors
doomed to drown after being thrown overboard
so do
Our hermanos y hermanas trans
our siblings who have suffered outside of the family
let us make sure home is where they are welcome
to take up space
to be safe
to be loved
I digress
this isn’t progress
this is regress
this isn’t a mistake
this is their play
remember the U.S. modeled what Nazis would do
it’s only returning the favor
Por favor
No more
Let this night lower its knives
Let this match light the new day
Let this brick guide my throw
Let us
keep us safe
