El Paso Uno
No one woke up, that Saturday, mourning.
No one woke up that Saturday morning with intentions of becoming a
….. back to school vigil.
No one woke up not expecting to finish out a sophomore year…that had barely be-
gun.
No one woke believing “passageway to the north” would take on a whole new meaning.
No one woke up wanting to be a headline.
No one woke up wanting to be a deadline.
A story
that no one wanted to write.
A story
no one wants to right
or re-write
or re-like.
No one wanted to be number.
No one wanted to be a bilingual hashtag.
No one wanted to be punctuated.
No one wanted to be
period.
No one wanted to be an Old English font.
No one wanted to sprout ink-dried quills.
No one wanted to play chamber music
in this American roulette.
No one wanted this kind of love poem
after death.
If no one wants to be on the front line of a poem.
Put me,
on the frontline
of a poem.
by Hakim Bellamy
from Split This Rock