A Stranger, a Stray, a Wanderer
The bus stops & police
line up the migrants,
backs against the wall.
Do not forget
you belong here
even less than them.
No matter how much culture
you learn to mirror outwards,
no matter how well you push
their beautiful sounds through
your teeth,
no matter who calls you family
& welcomes you openly,
no matter how comfortable
the country around you feels
when you lay down your head.
There is a reason you share
the same name as the strays,
there is a reason your passport
was taken away,
there is a reason despite
the eventuality of it all:
you are a stranger,
a stray, a wanderer.
Unseen Costs
Wake me up when
I can answer the door
without a fear of police
where movement is free
& crossing borders doesn’t
consist of sweating profusely
in freeze framed terror &
hoping the guards are too lazy
in the dog days of periscoping
papers to see through my disguise
of steady nerved stillness
I have been named
after the strays
the unwanted
& left to fend
for themselves
to be caught, fined,
or injured would skin me
of security, would find
me in gnarled streets
& stray dog fights,
each day I become them,
each day teeth borne, lip
raised, low growl, thinner still
as spring scrapes the horizon
wake me, brother,
when they’ve put out
food to feed the sag
of our bones, & we’ll fight
for a better tomorrow,
for a today without fear
Thin Air Magazine 