Jennifer L. Freed
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!
–Emma Lazarus, ‘The New Colossus’
He says They
He says Save
what we have
Fridays at the Free Library,
I steer you through the language
that surrounds you here
in your new
your bamboo hills, your missing father, soldiers
cleansing the land
of your people.
nights, emptying crates, filling
big-box stores. You share
and minimum wage
with mother, sister, her two boys,
your little girl.
Now you urge me to take
the curry noodles you brought on a foil-covered plate,
the golden dumplings your wife fried specially