Desaparecido - Doug Lane

[Lawrence Robinson]

Desaparecido

Where I have come from
has disappeared.
First the wind bent it,

then burned it down.
Now the rain,
too late to save it,

is washing the polluted mud, the remains,
down the hillsides
into the sea.

I meant to write them,
all my memories of home,
down, but they were

blowing down, burning up, in my brain.
I rushed to stick my head
in the shower

and save them,
but I washed them away,
circling the drain, instead.

What you see here, what you hear,
is all I have left
as I fail to write them

in bed,
a bed I may never leave.
What’s the point in getting up?

Everywhere that matters to me
is up in smoke.
I meet hopeful refugees

coming to this Promised Land
to make new lives, to make new homes.
“Are you sure?” I ask them.

Just last month
this place went from Land of Opportunity
to Fried Banana Republic.

	- Doug Lane
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