Jackie Lopez Lopez
The KKK invaded my library when I was 9.
I was poor, ugly, and abused.
They were jealous of me.
So many people have called for divine justice on the border.
SB1070 is a fire in the desert.
I get accosted every day by bodhisattvas.
I hang on by a thread to the magic.
The desert can be hard.
The shame can be thick.
And, my blood runs cold.
The plantation keeps me original.
They say that there is a New Earth and the border is on the cutting edge.
The wind is whispering justice.
I think that I will become the horse’s mouth:
Justice means no border, no wall.
You dive into eternity just to find the courage to say that.
I know how to trickle-down effect ideas to the masses.
I call them thoughts.
I hear the whispers in the slave quarters
because the border means We the People of the Entire World.
We all desperately want to be free.
Some hearts can have a stigmatism.
Some hearts cannot be swayed.
I hate to be truthful like this, but what is a lie worth if I am not a politician?
The KKK invaded my library when I was 9, and I did not count as a vote.