"River for Diapers" by Suzanne Escarcega

River for Diapers

The desert doesn’t grow tents
Sometimes it doesn’t grow at all
but instead swells to tears and pulses of children
breathing in rhythm under metal sheets

Grandma crossed the river for diapers and work
via the bridge that hangs over El Chuco hopefuls,
sleepers, dreamers, sun burnt
Chuco, where my people buy lawn chairs
and never get political
once the bridge is behind them

My father as brown as the river crossed it
and never looked back
because of this
in all my sorrow I am lucky
having beat back barriers,
wait times, abuelas’ deaths, arthritis and
still I’ve been able to go back for queso y la pulga
I am lucky

Beyond guilt, orgullosa,
I find self-awareness in the border shadows
and begin to learn my place
to feel my story as brown as the river
to pray for the dead, the surviving, the disconnected
I can only hope to feel and will never know them

Suzanne Escarcega

Suzanne Escarcega is a queer Mexican-American writer with family on both sides of the border. She grew up in El Paso, Texas, and currently lives in Los Angeles. Both locations heavily influence her writing.

Photo Credit: Staff