The Ships of States that lay out there
heaved a mighty sigh,
sending the No Ones scrambling—
some went here, some there, back and forth.
¡América! De ti cantamos.
Are these the poor, huddled masses,
the tired, the wretched refuse, the riff-raff,
the dirty, yearning destitutes
scurrying toward our dim northern light?
Perhaps the Gadsden Purchase crossed them.
Someone called this a Promised Land—
Come get a new Anthem and a Waiver,
Officially written on Official Paper—
The irony of the so-called storied pomp?
Out here there is no Ellis Island;
no welcoming Madre de los Exiliados.
The kitchens are tidied by the riff-raff,
the wretched refuse mow the lawns,
the huddled masses harvest the fields.
Those Clever Foxies, wrapped in the flag,
call it The Invasion, with a clack of their heels
and a smirk on their lips and lies on their tongues.
The No Ones ask:
Where is your celebrated lamp?
Where is the golden door?
¿Por qué sea tan difícil?
E pluribus unum?
Not so much.
At that, the No Ones cry,
and no one says
Amen.
I was thinking of this today; the rotting fields, the day workers terrified to go out & get work, the hospitality businesses being ambushed, the immigration courts being stalked by ICE, the masked ICE agents sweeping the people deemed unnecessary in the society of the White Nationalists in charge of the US govt. I’m sick of the bigots & racists being given permission to lynch young black men in Louisiana.
ReplyDeleteI cannot accept this Nazi regime.
How can anyone accept this administration? It boggles the mind.
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