I dedicate this poem to those who have been denied a home because of race or ethnicity.
May we have a home?
by Luis S. González-Acevedo
The immigrants stood at their prospective landlord’s door in latent panic,
knowing it was the only way to beg for that apartment
and secure their children’s well-adjustment;
but they weren’t Anglo nor Germanic.
The couple was persistent. Caribbean Hispanics
battered by their circumstances and haggard
–yet intent on flying skyward.
But in the end, their mobile souls bled
when the soulless landlord said:
“I’m sorry, but you’re not the right Hispanic. –You know… European… Spaniards.”
–You can find the poem in Caribbean Poet, by Luis S. González-Acevedo–