Divine Justice on the Border

By

Jackie Lopez Lopez

Richard Aremdariz

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.