-Immigrant Worship
(make room for them all)
They rack for shelter
with hope on back
like scabs of composure beaten off them
The elements swelter
while they wander a track
and feed on the dreams of sweet scoffdom
they travel desperation
both humbly and fierce
like any starved bear pup at winter
Seven miles past frustration
with sun nibbled ears
they tweezer out home like a splinter
Yet when they draw near
politicians sniff up
the smolder of chance to relight pilots
— a cause worth a tear
— some blues to riff up
— a narrative red full of “compile its”
And so they get bantered
these folk on rope
swung fiercely like so many sling shots
a small bit of man turd
offered scant bit of soap
cloaked with steam from a rich country’s sing pots
Some they will welcome
Some will weep happy
Some will ope doors for the hungry
but some will see Hell come
while opponents are mapping
their squeezings of people so sundry
For lands do have judgment
have memory
have shortage
Lands do have blight of their own
and citizen grudgement
poor disamory
poor portage
from hearts with thin bone
Can you force folk to embrace
to kiss with cold lips?
a people of some other’s mercy
Can you force them to have grace
to soften their tips
to be fine where the other is worsing?
Are not all souls homeless?
though some do have walls
are not all souls running from death?
All want their lands tombless
want cushion for falls
and a clean tank to generate breath
The hope for compassion then
comes by example
not compulsion, nor guilting it through
Love must be rationed then
each must have ample
to be called on to bleed forth something true
So bring forth your masses
your huddled
your starved
only give love a chance to be real
Kick not the asses
so befuddled
and dwarved
Extend them the chances to feel
If you love them, the native
If you love them, the far
If you love them, the ones with two nickels
Then remain contemplative
Don’t poison the jar
Work to sweeten the dour sour pickles.
For neighbors are people
and neighbors have needs
Neighbors are the ones you must start with
For if grace be your steeple
and if love your heart bleeds
Then all prejudice rage do depart with
For all are the immigrants
All are lost persons
All need their faces on walls
So seek with all diligence
before the world worsens
To love them the each of us alls
