Refuge Refused

I'm not sure why we treat you like this...

when I came to your country
you gave me early mornings
and long warm days
boat rides across the lake
colour woven into braids
a warm welcome, a request to stay
[REFUTED]

I tried to speak to you,
managed a song or two
always the gringa...
I guess that's just how this story goes
[UNDISPUTED]

you haven't even finished your story
[MUTED]
and now that you've made it here
I really must ask you to leave.

there's no time to re-imagine
we are tied to the system.
[REFUGE REFUSED...
UNDISPUTED]

dear sponsor

today I received
the letter you sent me. I tried to memorize each word
as I heard them join hands
and make sentences, whist being read aloud.
I am sure that you must know
I cannot read myself. That's why I must keep inside
me, all that I wish to carry,
why it cannot be forgotten.

if only I could write
the letter I wish to send you. About what it means 
to be a girl in my country
and the messages, sent with this form of birth.
I am sure that you would read it
most nights at least. Then it would be inside of 
you, the story I have to share,
and it would not be forgotten.

Famine Relief

you were born hungry.

I'm sorry
I didn't know how rare the days were that you ate,
as I grew up picky about what was on my plate
you grew up working.
I'm sorry
I thought grade school math was hard
as you worked the fiedls hands blistered and scarred

you started your family so young.
I'm sorry
because I know you didn't really have enough
while my life is filled and filled and filled with stuff.
you nursed in fear.
i'm sorry 
but i just don't relate to that feeling of dread
that you might wake up to find her small fragile body dead...

you reached crisis.
I'm sorry
I think i was probably wasting time that day
used no moment to even think of you, let alone pray
you left your home.
I'm sorry 
because as I cling to the comfort of mine, hunger pangs despite
you're wandering through the desert, searching for respite

you were widowed.
I'm sorry
h-u-n-g-e-r the 6 letter kiss of death non-discriminating
the pain comes in w-a-v-e-s and in between there's waiting
because you are alone
i'm sorry
it's just too far, the journey's too much
for our hands to hold, our journeys to touch

and you because a refugee.
I'm sorry.

I know you're calling for relief 
and I am sorry.
But I don't mind if you come gather among the sheaves,
I'll take what I want but the rest I'll leave.
I'm sorry but 
I see your picture on the news at night, 
and I'll give my money, then move on from your plight.

I'm sorry but
I just don't think we hear from where we stand
the depth of the cry from the horn of your land
and I'm sorry 
because the loudest call of relief to which I heed
has to do with how relieved I am it's not me in need

made in _____

label of blurred letters
soft fabric pulled over my head

this dress...

made by tiny fingers
world's of oceans and empires

apart.

we are Babylon
and we don't question

this 

thread of exploitation.
keep pulling- maybe it will

unravel...