Run From La Frontera


Run From La Frontera

Just a boy of twelve
Not too strong, not too sure
“Vamos al norte,” they said
“ Listen to the coyote!”

These men of my family
Pleaded with me
Tugged me, pushed me, scolded me
Into reluctance, step by step

Falling behind them... Unnoticed
I turned and slipped behind a shed
The rest were pulled north
Like moths attracted to a light bulb

See the wall, in all its rusted glory
But it repelled me
And I felt the pull of Morelia....
De mi Abuela

Behind the shed, I poked my head... Out
They’ve lost me, dollar signs fill their eyes
Lemmings they are, the border their cliff
Let them fall into the desert abyss

Two weeks now on this road
Ever so parted from mi Padre, Primo y Tio
This road ever so long and hot
Eating well on fruits from a farmers lot

Sneaking what I can get
Took a rooster from a pen
Killed it first with a stone
Tied it to my belt and started for home

My directional pointed south
Toward a sheltered spot en la playa
Cerca del surf
Where I can roast this tough old gallo

Over a fire of driftwood
Where the sounds and sights of Moralia
Will flicker and pop en mi cabesa
With the warm smell of tortillas

Handmade by mi Abuela
Wafting through my senses
The distance between us growing shorter
Now so many kilometers from the border

What is the fate of my Father?
And my Cousin and Uncle?
In that murderous borderland
Which I could not stand

Working now for bus pesos
Scuffling in an ally with a bandit joto
Scarfing pan dulce from a dumpster
Dreaming of mi escuela....

And of Moralia.... just down the road
I return home, not as a coward
But as a patriot, un nieto
My Abuela’s little boy

Future vaquero... scholar... torero...
Padre... patron... revolutionary... ranchero...

By:

Jesse Alberson
Tucson, Az

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

El Fayuquero

Image
El Fayuquero A Mexican picker heading south In his overloaded truck and trailer Mattresses and tricycles Microwaves and kitchen tables Check off the list a car battery Couches and jumper cables Un Fayuquero heading home Back to his shop Across the southwest he roams Picking at every stop Scavenging American junk piles Shopping at the thrift stores Combing the swap meet aisles Fighting the picker wars In all the little desert towns Blasting winds and dusty roads Enduring the ugly frowns As he secures his unsteady loads Con cuidado , doing 55 on the freeway Bikes teetering on top of chairs Packed pickups towing other pickups Packed to the gills with household wares Flower adorned crosses stand out In the trucks one flickering headlight But the man knows without a doubt… He’ll be in Nogales by midnight Unlike his amigo Miguel Antonio Pedregon-Baray A fellow fayuquero whose cross is nearby His wreck left goods scattered all over the roadway As he d
Read more

Fieldwork Exercise - Sanctuary in the Desert

Image
Shadow Rock United Church of Christ - Phoenix, Az       I recently visited a local Phoenix church as part of a fieldwork exercise for my Anthropology class in which we were tasked with observing church rituals, practices, and symbols. I chose a church nearby and found it more interesting than I bargained for. This particular church, Shadow Rock United Church of Christ, is a sanctuary for undocumented immigrants, providing a safe harbor for those in need. With lots of talk by Donald Trump about building a wall along the southern border, a major piece of his presidential bid, its worth noting the dilemma many undocumented immigrants face after being released from ICE custody. Occasionally they're cleared of any wrong doing and need a place to go, lest they be left to wander the streets. Some undocumented immigrants, many I imagine, are being accused of crimes they didn't commit and face extradition before their cases can be heard in a court of law. These immigrants are forc
Read more

Christmas Across the Border

Image
Christmas Across the Border A Christmas trip to Arizona Laughing and joking our way Across the desert on a bus A happy and joyous affair Would soon turn into a nightmare Tucson lights at night Sinaloa so long ago It seems... But only the day before Our broken navidad dreams A lone toddler’s shoe Sits on the roadside A single sad sole That tells the tale Of a hurried escape Just ahead of the law With sirens screaming And searchlight beams That blind and shatter Our holiday dreams Broken down bus Southbound lanes La migra licking their chops The officer frowns The cruiser slows down And quickly comes to a stop Checking our papers He lets out a sigh His face is blurred Through my only good eye A scar runs down my cheek From hairline to chin The officer thinks I'm a freak I can tell from his ugly grin My wife carries our son Almost the age of three Born with only one arm A
Read more