Where I’m From

Where I’m From

BY TERÉ FOWLER-CHAPMAN

Occupied to hold an odom land
Chucks on 
Sit still on my mouth like a sawarto in deep thought
The sun beats in 
Like a hard-hardened mother beats thickness into silence 
Before seething about the same lesson for the last time 
Says, here, the coolness of water is a privilege 
Quench down the wall of your throat the sweat
Downpour 
From the inside out as a reminder 
Here, I give you what is left
Sunlight 
Sunshine 
A heat that cooks supper on empty road by noon
If it feels disrespectful 
It’s because I’m disrespected 
Here, the migrant walking with the belief of a freedom that doesn’t believe in them 
Is believing in a monsoon that is all dried up
Like the adoil 
That once believed in abundance, too
Here, would a black body drops into this land for the last time 
A haboob rises the ash from the earth and carries them home 
Mi amigo, lo siento 
Here, the meats of an aloe plant scrubs what burns so good from the tip of your tongue 
If you begin to listen as well as you speak, Teré
Mountains become montañas
Water becomes agua 
And abuelita calls you mijo before the transition even begins 
Here, you are home or you are hunting 
Es tu elección, mijo 
It is your choice, son