A pair of black crows
Sweeping low
Moving in one synchronized faith
Every turn, considered
Every twist, measured
An invisible instant passes amid
the language linking their bodies
watching them watching us watching them
¡Ahora somos libres!
Thick brown ribbon of bifurcation
unfurls its desire from the banks of the Rio Grande
and slithers into the Pacific Ocean
Broken now only by cold concrete obelisks
Where Juan declared his love for Esther with a sharpie marker
Where Angel Cruz left everything behind
Where history entreats itself for forgiveness
and draws a sharp breath
and shuts its eyes
an instant before
it hurls more broken bodies across the line
Where ragged backpacks instead of shrines
Where plastic bottle instead of chalice
Where Highway 10 instead of sacrament
¡Ahora somos libres!
In the blue borderland sky
A pair of predator drones
Sweeping low
Moving in one synchronized faith
Every turn, considered
Every twist, measured
An invisible instant passes amid
the language linking their bodies
watching them watching us watching them
chris galanis
10/11/2011
No comments:
Post a Comment