My People

My people

married their
first cousins

and passed on
crooked backs

and congenital
deafness -

my people
scraped desert island hills

into terraces

and pleaded
with the earth -

my people
gathered the rain

in cisterns
hidden beneath their huts.

There was never
enough,

and poverty
only begets beauty

and generosity

in the movies.

It's only true
children are fear

and jealousy.

And that is why
my people

set sail

and did not

return.

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