A National Emergency

A national emergency is a series of hurricanes on one coast and as many fires on the other coast, the direct results of climate change that our country chooses to ignore. A national emergency is the healthcare crisis, where we can’t get prosthetics if we’re missing a limb or pay for cancer treatment even if we’re dying. A national emergency is CEO pay which has multiplied exponentially for five decades and left the common worker with a salary too low to buy a house, buy eggs, or pay rent.

There is no national emergency at our border. There are millions of people, despite all of our national emergencies, who have faced far worse: farms that can no longer grow coffee due to climate change, dictatorships that have taken away all rights, medical care that includes fewer options for cerebral palsy or cancer than we have here.

Their emergencies trail behind them, left in their home countries weeks, months, or years ago, and like that train that they cling to carrying them across Mexico, they hope never to see again.

They are here now, families in tow, babies in tow, ready to work, ready to enroll their children in school and provide jobs for teachers like me, ready to take into their hands the American Dream that you have declared doesn’t exist for them.

They are not criminals.

They are not illegal.

They are not a national emergency, an executive order you’ve used to circumvent Congress on your first day in office.

They pick your food and clear your sidewalks after snow and build your roofs and work in your restaurants and run your factories and teach your children and make you rich. They are professors and lawyers and engineers and mechanics and everything in between.

They are human.

And after more than four hundred years of forced colonization and enslaved labor indoctrinated in our blood by imperialists like you, the only national emergency is how far back we’ve moved the dial of progress, and for how long we will make Suffering the motto of YOUR AMERICA.

Silver Anniversary Trip, Day Twenty-one

a calming cycle
on a rails-to-trails flat path:
way to start the day
more history learned 
at a medieval castle
built, burned, lost, rebuilt
my man boating us
back down the river, towards home
our heritage left

Silver Anniversary Trip, Day Twenty

riding up river
in a boat we drive ourselves
weathering windstorms
the river’s flooded
even for Irish standards
yet we navigate
monastery stop
seventh century ruins
Irish faith runs deep
a long drive’s reward:
stellar food, oldest pub
and Guinness to drink
sleeping on a boat
knowing Athlone’s lights alight
can be quite calming

Silver Anniversary Trip, Day Nineteen

a castle day trip
cycling on sketchy roads
yet worth the visit
hidden Irish gems:
four hundred years of earls
residing in stone
science surprises:
this telescope discovered
distant galaxies
and Bruce got to stand
in the largest redwood grove
outside the U.S.
night ends with laughter
in a 1500s pub
kindness in their blood

Silver Anniversary Trip, Day Eighteen

a rough travel day
and some rough river waters
aren’t too rough for us
the sunset calms us
the river settles for bed
and we can rest now

Silver Anniversary Trip, Day Seventeen

we’re the post office:
through wind, rain, sleet, clouds… weather
we weather the storm
just another day
in the life we’ve created
in sickness and health

Silver Anniversary Trip, Day Fifteen

botanic gardens
will forever be compared
to Monte’s beauty
tropical magic
trees and blooms of every shade
giving us NO shade
two thousand years old:
a tree planted by Romans
to bring us olives
on all future trips
beating Madeira? so hard
blue-green amazement

Silver Anniversary Trip, Day Eight

everyone loves pies
especially my “sailor”
sailing in England
his dream, to be here
honoring Admiral Nelson
at pub built for him
the travel bug bites
a little later for some
(i’m glad it but him)

Silver Anniversary Trip, Day One

with first flight canceled,
a frenzied drive across town
against Swift traffic

we made it in time
to a line wrapped three times round
the doomed terminal

we had just hours
after a year of planning
to catch the right plane

at the airport bar
post-security panic
we toasted our luck
he saw my new ‘do
the grins of relief returned
twenty-five years in
on board, luck joined us
with a whole row to ourselves
on “overbooked” flight
what a start to our
silver anniversary
purple as the sun

Second Baby, First Home