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the roadrunner at the checkpoint

at the checkpoint

sour-faced agents check for papers

tour dogs around cars

and generally seem angry at the heat

               ready by the king’s order

               to ship mexicans(?) back across the river

with the budget

and the talk


a native son

was nervous


my wife spotted a roadrunner

beside a fence many times

its height

the bird oblivious

to the place and job

stretching its wings to spook

enough bugs from the grass

to make a meal

when it found there were none

it looked at the fence

measured its height

and without much thought

slipped through a thin gap

back into the monte


the agents waved me over

eyed me like i was



you both US citizens?

yes, ma’am

where you going?

          her tone told me it

          was a trap

          an excuse to use the spray

                              or cuffs

carrizo springs, i told her

without hesitation


her lips thinned

you’re free to go


i drove away thinking

of the bird

of its boredom

and escape act

wondering what it might think

of all that fuss

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