give me your
give me your
your tired
– tired – tired – a long hot walk –
tired – your eyelids drooping – the swimming desert – your last few steps – you’re tired
give me your tired / your poor
your poor – souls? poor poor souls – bodies – your tired poor bodies
last dollars to the dogs –
long-fingered coyotes – their hands –
cold sweat / hot night / dark night on their hands / and the one who carries you to freedom holds your tit in his hands / your poor –
(give me the ones who can pay the application fees)
give me your tired your poor your huddled masses yearning to breathe free
free?
breathe free
breathe air / no air in the desert / no air in the cage / in the cage / breathe free / ?
yearning to breathe free –
the wretched refuse of your shithole countries
give me your tired – poor – wretched / no air in the cage – breathe free
send these, the homeless!
the homeless! send them to the cage!
the tempest-tost! no air in the desert!
the tempest / the desert / desert-tost / send them to the cage
yearning to breathe free /
I lift my lamp beside the prison door!
Header photograph © Lannie Stabile.
Raisa Elhadi is a Lebanese-American writer based in Minneapolis. Her work focuses on themes of identity, heritage, culture, and current events, and primarily takes the form of poetry and creative nonfiction.
This collage of Emma Goldman’s poem and Hinkie’s passionate words make this the most important poem I’ve read on the refugees fleeing to our Southern border. Thank you for this.