by Alahnna Alvarado
we used to stay up watching the moon rise over thirty thousand rooftops in a bustling mini-Manila in the middle of a tyrant tourism town on the edge of the California coast meeting the Pacific Ocean, specific motions would then leave us dry heaving never leaving the poor poverty prejudice, we were buried brown beneath, the dark damp dirt maggots made to murder forced to feed upon the filth we were born into, sworn into greencards, green bards after Whitman, after Poe knowing nothing at all but the cold crazy cavalier mouth of a monster never full, always cruel ate away at the flesh of fresh faces that were lied to bribed to give us your hungry give us your old give us your weak for discount wages fill the pages do you fit the qualifications? demonstrations demon nation obituaries in English you can't understand not your language speak our language Brown boy, come - give me a hand & welcome to the Promised Land
