A Poem by Lamont Loyd-Sims
Yeah that’s right.
Some of us are witnesses.
We saw the images.
We read the news.
Reminders of ongoing imperialism through deportations.
Back to Haiti.
Images of whips in the hands of gatekeepers.
Going about while riding their enslaved horses.
And whips in hand.
But the Hatian people will continue arriving.
They’ve been here centuries long.
A people’s pursuit to freedom.
Pursuit of optimal happiness.
Joy in their bodies.
Yeah, we look like them.
Those Haitian people. They look like us.
Our bodies, connected in the most transkinaesthetic forms.
The men with whips keep losing, but they continue on.
And we just keep pressing on.
Dodging those patrolling an imaginary border.
We will always remember.
Defiance of Haitians in the Del Rio waters.
