To the Disappeared
To the Disappeared
To the unknown men and women,
the children,
the people whose only crime
is their brown skin
and an accent suggesting Mexico
or somewhere farther south,
to those snatched
from parking lots or work,
from the courtrooms
they dutifully attended,
to those sent to foreign prisons
or the buffoonish nightmare
of Alligator Alcatraz,
I say, “I love you.”
This is not America now
and, really, it never was.
So, I love you for loving America,
even the lie of America,
that has now sent you away
or imprisoned you.
You know better than I
that there are monsters
in this country
who wield power like a mallet
and you are their fetish.
Miller, Trump,
the rats of the Supreme Court,
all of these are wicked.
The list of vile names is long
and, while some are hidden,
many are familiar.
If we are allowed to write history
when this is over,
it will not be kind to them.
They love power and money
and the ecstasy of their hate.
Perhaps, someday, the terror will pass.
For now, it is too late for anyone
to lay claim to kindness,
but most understand that masks
are for cowards and thugs.
Someday, everyone will say
they opposed the fate imposed upon you.
They will beg their children to believe
they were always good people.
Everyone will say they love humanity.
How wonderful if it were so.
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