Queue
imagine
pledging allegiance to a flag not your own,
groveling for a piece of paper,
sitting under a sweating sun,
then ending up with
nothing.
imagine
running on your knees,
kneeling before brazen idols,
chanting vacant mantras,
‘visa, visa,
grant me a
visa.’
then ending up with
nothing.
imagine
trying to leave your country
under the shadow of a false god,
marked and branded with an
‘S-double-bar’,
herded like cattle into
the loony bin
that is the
US embassy.
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