Difficult Immigrant Poetry

Been rubbin’ a bad charm with holy fingers.

The Pixies (Gouge Away)

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Now, what do I mean by that?

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I begin with this question,

I have ideas worth a mention.

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Haiku? Already?

I want to share what I know.

The page needed this.

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But what makes this difficult?

What makes it even immigrant?

I’m following a pattern as I write

and you are judging the line.

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I once had to explain

why I love literature. Again,

you don’t even see me

beyond myths of idiocy

that never explain our pain.

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Well, you have made it this far with me.

You probably think I missed

explaining my own title. See,

I could have sat down, made a plan and list

all of the associations of race,

culture, those people you avoid out

of fears you thought you could handle. Let’s face

it, folks. We don’t need to hear another shout

of rage as I sit here and wonder why

even this - so many forms - isn’t enough.

There is more – so, so much more – I could try

to write: odes, scribbles, some more modern stuff.

Instead, I think I should stop with this thought:

Sometimes titles exist not to get taught.

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You can find more poems, stories, and articles by Kendall Defoe on my Vocal profile. I complain, argue, provoke and create...just like everybody else.

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