like all the other women survivors,
me, walking free from the monster.
our people who do the hard work
of America,
dying as caregivers
Oh, America, how many tears do you want
before you stop killing our sons?
How your arrival is now nothing to her?
And your leaving is nothing to her?
When I grow up, I want to be a fish,
a big blue fish if I ever grow up.
Our beloved lay down and then eloped
to that other world.
The news arrived by e-mail — a scribble of a long, single sentence, broken up, like little chunks of wood, the way a year is broken up into months and weeks, days, hours.
Waiting,
so, we can finally mend the pain of our broken
homelands, all the ruined places
of our being, oh Africa,
to mend our broken roads and broken minds.
We were living at the Mount Clinton Internally Displaced Refugee camp outside of Roseville the day his death news came in. It struck something throughout the camp of thousands, like an axe cutting through hard wood…
When I was a child,
I used to hear of this faraway place
where my people came to drown
themselves in search of America.
The former President of Liberia, Nobel laureate H.E. Ellen Johnson Sirleaf promotes freedom, peace, justice, women’s empowerment and democratic rule.
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