BRICKS
Our first night in Mexico, my friend with his three years of Spanish
striked a political conversation with the bartender
I didn’t understand a word of what was said
I took French in college
But, I saw the bartender point past the street lamp just above the beach
I heard the concern in his voice
But the tone of concern was not for himself
He looked at my friend and I
The concern was for us.
I could only infer his message
I imagine he said:
“I see the walls you built
The lines you have drawn
Borders you reiterated
The contrasts you emphasized
I see the partitions and the barriers you put in place.
I see how deep the rivers run of apathy and indifference as they anastomose
with denial
Yes, I see the walls you built
But, please understand that the divide you Americans created to keep me out:
Brick by brick; higher and higher
The wall forms
between your neighbors
between progress and fear
between love and hate
Your nation created mazes within itself
The wall you wanted to build is already complete, but it’s not between you and me.”
—Elizabeth Aziz, OMS I
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