listen to the love song
of languages
on the subway

listen to the latino boedga owner
who gave my Korean friend free coffee
every morning her first year teaching
when black students at first called her Chink
and later loved her

listen to the Yemeni corner store owners
who bring us children who climb
cafeteria tables like jungle gyms
having never been to
school so unsure what to do
and who search their dumpsters
for the front page
from the day my nephew is born
when I leave work
late to remember
to preserve his arrival

listen to the child from Senegal
who at twelve has only attended school
for a year or two
so speaks some French
but mostly a dialect of Fulani
which is only oral unwritten
and steady he grips the pencil yet

listen to the science teacher who gives
said child a two dimensional image
of the solar system while he teaches the class
Centripetal motion
and privately asks if I think he knows
the Earth is round

The picture is a good idea
I manage
though galaxies are needed we both know

Listen after school the new boy stands
looking down the block
students surround

The egg race begins
baton from French to fulani dialect to translate to English to me
Don’t worry Ms. we got him
He knows how to get home
We think.

No one is alarmed
this is below par for his course

Galaxies I am reminded
exist

Listen
on the State Exams
translators ask
Can we just teach them instead?

We blink
in this moment
in this galaxy
under this star
this is this is this is
where we are
also immigrants

Tell them
We are the descendants
of the bad guys
the conquistadors

Remember to try
to do better
since we are
who we are