the nest

tonight, there is only one detail.
and that is the nest of sadness (or is it a nest
with eggs of sadness inside)
settled in the space of my ribcage

sad at the news of a friend receiving a
deportation warning/notice in the mail
with her friend (like family)’s name on it
sad at the sound of the words sad and tired coming
out of my friend’s mouth
lost it at work she says tearing up at the front desk
and i don’t cry much less cry
in public
and this is true

she says she can count the number of times
she’s cried in her life on two hands
and one of those times was because of me
and i was there
and there were barely three tears

sad at the alarming quickness
(the only way i can think of to addrress this is say
there’s a lot of shit flying around around right now
let me know if you need an umbrella)

sad at the images of  gaudalupe garcia de rayos in phoenix arizona
after over 20 years of living in the u.s. and regularly
reporting to her immigration check-ins
behind the grate of a window of a vehicle she was locked in
to be deported
her son’s face in the window’s reflection

alongside the sadness
there are also de rayos’s teenage children
saying it’s hard not to cry
but we are going to be strong
i told her i love her so much
and that everything is going to be alright

alongside the sadness
there is also the swell of sound
of the protestors surrounding the vehicle
and locked to it
putting their bodies on the line
in order to keep the de rayos family together
for at least some hours longer

alongside the sadness
the one who couldn’t help but cry
behind the counter at her workplace
also tells me about the laughter
amongst the heaviness of the grief
around the table or in the living room
chilling hard
in the company of chosen family/community/loves

alongside the sadness, attorneys
stepping up to  do what they can
to bring de rayos
back home

sad because i know about the complication and very realness
of love across borders
angry because arizona used to fucking be mexico anyway
obliterated
by yet another moment
where there must be more that i can do,
that words can do,

that this nest can become

_______
from the water world
a3311de6-1e1c-477d-8bd9-f032ad1ac79e_w1023_s_s
A child sits on a chair as flood waters reach his house in the Sidakaton district in Tegal, Indonesia, Central Java province, in this photo taken by Antara Foto. – voice of america, day in photos

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Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

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