I am undocumented worker of eternity,
illegal crossing the border of a dream.
My passport of existence expired.
Without proper documentation my bones are worthless.
I travel night in a crowed truck without headlights.
I sleep in the backrooms of the law.
My American dream became
the hell of my exile.
He comes out of shadows, they point at me and say,
when I appear from the toilets of my job.
It doesn’t matter.I celebrate like a wetback
the passage of wind in desert altars
and contemplate infinity in the place
where the saguaros stood.
by Sergio Ortiz
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