Crystal City Family Internment Camp
We’re in the spinach capital of the world
10,000 cans a day
a statue of Popeye in town square
I stand at the edge of camp and touch Mexico
We do what all kids do
who are fenced in
where the desert light doesn’t end
and flies swarm the mouth of the horse
border patrol sits on
watching us
We find one another
hold each other’s faces
then drown
in the scent of orange blossoms
Orange Grove
In the seventh month of camp, we hide
in
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