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Letter to America
Francisco Alarcónpardon
the lag
in writing youwe were left
with few
lettersin your home
we were cast
as rugssometimes
on walls
though wewere almost
always
on floorswe served
you as
a tablea lamp
a mirror
a toyif anything
we made
you laughin your kitchen
we became
another paneven now
as a shadow
you use usyou fear us
you yell at us
you hate usyou shoot us
you mourn us
you deny usand despise
everything
wecontinue
being
usAmerica
understand
once and for all:we are
the insides
of your bodyour faces
reflect
your future
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