I can see the fence, mamá

The border fence

The holy grail of sunburnt men 

Selling candy on the street

For scraps

Travelling from Venezuela 

In the hope of false gods

Because “hope

Is the last thing you lose”

And hope is the currency 

Of Latin America

 

“They didn’t deserve

To die this way”

In other words 

They didn’t deserve to die 

In flames

Behind the bars of a cell

Punished for wishes

Of a better life 

For their six year old sons

And daughters 

And wives 

And mothers 

Those who cannot see the fence 

The fence that 39 men

Will never cross

 

Because it is easy to burn

When you are not in the fire

It is easy to burn

All those sunburnt men

That are used to the pain in their eyes

They are used to crawling 

Through the mud 

They are used to yearning 

For an American dream 

That never dreams of them

They are used to being hated 

For no other reason

Than a fence between worlds 

A fence with a key in its hand

And no will to use it 

 

Mexico, Ciudad Juárez

Streets with a mean streak

The bridge between light

And dark 

Orlando Maldonado

That was his name

26 years old on a street corner

Catching the wrong eye 

And the wrong side of power 

What did he do wrong

Other than grow up

On the wrong side of the fence?

 

I can see the fence, mamá

The border fence

Sweet like siren song

Sweet like candies 

Abandoned on the street corner

Their wrappers crushed

And sordid

Sweet like laughter

Dying in the night

As the fire runs its course

 

Tell me

Tell me

What did we do wrong?

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