12 Mar

we sat in a waiting room with the others looking at clocks watches CNN News tickers cell phones one another babies faces arms legs reactions clocks again watches ipods the weather reflections in windows; idling;
we held dossiers and folders and stacks of papers pictures affidavits proof of desire to live within geographic designations complying to political rules (do you swear to? i swear to)…we held them with sweaty palms all of us and twitching smiles eyes legs
and i thought again about the futility and absurdity and imbecility of borders
and the racism or bias that goes along with those who permit us to make a life where we think we could make a life
we passed the test the radar the polygraph the guidelines
we held the numbers on the statements we held the right race color facial features;
but i can’t help to think of some who left that hallway with long faces worried faces lines of stress cutting into cheeks and foreheads attorneys in tow more paperwork glazed looks babies in carriers;
the mighty will also fall one day and when the revolution comes and the peasants come out into the streets wielding hammers and sickles i’ll be the one strolling the other way hands in pockets baguette under my arm looking for a bicycle to clip
au revoir les enfants


2 Responses to “Process”

  1. Kim Wells 12/03/2009 at 1:07 PM #

    I said it before but here it is again: congrats. I pop a cork of bubbly for you next time there’s bubbly around to pop. :) Right now, it’s just espresso & a fireplace as winter has returned.

  2. (S)wine 17/03/2009 at 2:26 PM #

    bubbly! stop. send please. don’t stop.

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