Poetry: undocumented

poetry

May 19

Written By

{First published in the Spring 2021 issue of Hole in the Head re:View}

Undocumented

Coiled around me, helix of sleep

and dream, erasing space not you or me.

Not for fear, more reaching

for a handrail, as you held

my arm in new company, talked fast,

tap dance of manners—top hat and vanilla smile.

Okay, maybe fear. Tricks to stump

suspicion: Yes, Sir. Beautiful day, Sir.

Can I help with that, Sir?—getting on the good

side of white. I watched you serve, work, weigh

reactions to swarthy eyes and accent,

signing Father, Son, Holy Ghost like cops

stacked the deck to find you.

Will they know you broke laws to have

work matter, wanting just a house

like your dad, a bath, shed of tools, tidy

kitchen with chilies and lime? One safe thing

this side of motherland?

Undone