Nogales is shaved clean
like a military man.
The arid zone is vacated, sanitized
and totally controlled
America the beautiful,
discipline her virtue
She can hear her neighbor’s cries
through the cracks in the wall
The rocky rolling hills in twin cities
stretch their arms toward each other:
They were meant to be together.
Through the cracks in the poor construction
if you stick your head over and look,
you can see
Sprawl, buildup, a city dense and packed,
alive facing the dead zone across the way,
its northern neighbor’s policing eyes
Is the fence a dam?
Everything moves from south to north
the wind even blows that way, but the state has made it true for people
the debris builds up up up can’t get through
and water, too
To flood Nogales, Sonora.
—At the border wall in Nogales
9 March 2012