Читать книгу Stony the Road - Harold J. Recinos - Страница 15

in a world with streaks of light

Picasso would have run down

our spines from bulging eyes,

radios announce in crowded

apartments last night’s injuries

and remains of those flattened

by devouring white rage. the smug

politicians who find clever ways

to say God, ignore the beggars at

the gates unkind Americans so

carefully raze with their smiling

English only lips and blindness for

the blessed fruit in brown wombs

birthing human beings. in a world that

hates wretched migrants with Spanish

names, in all the places of worship

that never call us fathers, mothers,

brothers, sisters, husbands, wives,

children, neighbors or friends, we

ponder in American English about

soldiers at the border, I.C.E. agents

down the street, cops taking aim, the

work for penny wages, the endless

nights weeping, the disemboweling

of Jesus and American shame!