Sara Borjas
A woman walks by with a baguette on her shoulder
A woman walks by with a baguette on her shoulder.
Am I going to write, after that, about domestic pressures?
Another sits in front of the ATM, kills a cockroach, laughs at nothing.
How dare one speak about access to opportunity & the American dream?
Another has entered my hand, with a hot pot of soup.
To speak them, about the meaning of LatinX, to the Chair of the Department?
An amputee walks by holding a black leash attached to a beautiful dog.
Afterwards, I stay quiet while someone declares beauty is in the eye of the beholder?
Another shakes, chokes, folds over on the sidewalk.
Will it ever be possible to be just one person?
Another searches the trash can for plastic, aluminum
How to write, after that, about the possibility of protection by police?
A busboy slips in the kitchen, cracks his spine, no longer kisses anything.
To explain then, to people, about privilege?
A publisher prints another book about white experience.
With what face to teach at the state college?
A homeless woman lies amongst others, with her eyes open under an overpass.
To speak, after that, about the courage of political murals?
A woman goes to a funeral, sobbing.
How then, to apply for tenure at the university?
Someone carries a gun into the room.
How dare we compare nuclear fusion to love?
A white colleague says they hope things change and then gives up absolutely nothing.
How to hear another one of them cry in their email without screaming?
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