VOICES FROM THE ROCKS

First you must understand that we
have always crossed the river here -
          upstream rise the ragged mountains
          downstream stretch the muddy swamps.

For travelers on the coast,
here is the place to
                     cross this desert river
                     between the
mountains and the sea.

That is why the Indian path was here.
That is why the actual road is here.
That is why the border gate is here.

No matter what you call us, north
to south, or south to north, here
is where we always crossed the river
(from) before the border was born.

We came. They come.

Indian Kumayai, Ipai people,
Mexican Spaniard, Yankee conqueror,
man woman child tourist or worker
greencard or illegal, laser visa, passport,
what is your citizenship, green light you
may pass -
                     red light inspection.

Come to cross between the mountains and the swamps
where the river flows down & turns left toward the sea
          here where sand and brush kiss the winter water,
          cross here, before the mud, below the hills, here.

So we came. They come.

From the first Indian trails
where no one said stop
on our way to harvest shellfish
at the rocks south of playas

to the expedition of 1769
colonizing California for new Spain

to dirt roads of yanquis
                    & rancheros
with wagons and horse
driving cattle toward market
                    on San Diego bay

to 1911 filibusterers
          who fled across the river
from defenders of Tijuana

to the refugees from revolution
          and returnees for colonia Libertad
          rejected by American depression
to Volstead prohibition drinkers
          and Hollywood tourists spinning
rubber tires on new cement

Orson Wells and Dolores del Rio,
World War II, Korea, Marilyn Monroe,
bracero laborer, soldier-sailor, Vietnam
Japan Korea maquiladora Germany France
19-year old college drinker party dancer
Mexican shopper crossing to buy @ discount
and silent worker-employee seeking pay.

We came, and they come -
          to the
vast millenium freeway where
all must be beckoned forward
into the gate of judgment by
          man and guardian dog
into the sovereign mouth of hell
where migrant fires lick at the fence
through teeth of unequal yet
          friendly neighbor nations

we came - you come - to this

place to cross the desert river
of sticks and sewage foam

here, here, here between the
mountains and the ocean.

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(revised) from Codex TijuanA, winning manuscript, 2000 Pellicer-Frost Binational Poetry Competition.

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TIJUANA  GRINGO gringo tijuanense

Tijuanimagen :  Historia poemas

TJ Poemas : Mesopoemix

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e-mail at tijuanagringo@yahoo.com

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Copyright 2001-2002 Daniel Charles Thomas