Border, a poem by Mike White

A response to Wendy Kawabata

Mike White


Border

 
Black out heat delirium
in a crawlspace
in the back of a delivery truck,

 

the drone of flies and the dark
parts of animals.     

 

It could’ve been worse, he says. 

 

But there are things he can’t eat,
and words
that catch in his throat

 

in more than one tongue.