Our Countries

Alonso Llerena

I marched the colors of America’s capital in my hands

during vulnerable years in life

I thought the world could be mine if I served.

The cherry blossoms were particularly sick and bright in 2001.

   Much later, I sat alone in a bar with a martini

in Takoma Park, the neighborhood I had learned to call home.

My hand was sweaty around my phone

when my cousin in Japan texted me hello.

What a handsome nikkei man, I thought.

The distance between us

is larger than the length of our exiles

He tells me: I miss you, how can I would love to see America

I can help your eyes:

            Two Bronze Cranes

                        Dual wings, blunt bills

                        Unravel barbed wire

            They extricate a sin

After the Pearl Harbor attack, The US negotiated

a political-military alliance with Peru. “Hemispheric security” and

prejudice motivated a deportation program that uprooted

Japanese Peruvians to internment camps in America in the 1940s.

Our old country conspired to exterminate your kin

There is no other way to say this

How can we temper memory in our new countries?

Hidden within The National Mall:

Piss and stone at the feet of cranes next to this claim

“Here we admit a wrong”

certainly not corrected.

It is not the arrangement of the stone that moves me, nor

Reagan’s words.

It is the height of feathers

and their invisible blood

they drip from each desert city as etched words.

Apologies, the constant——

                                                      Cleanse the steel——

                                                                                                            Desert sins repeated——

American need to cleanse——

                                                      galvanize the billets——

                                                                                                            Desert sins repeated——

Upturned hands——

                                                      sulfate and zinc——

                                                                                                            Desert sins repeated——

The concentric embrace——

                                                      barbed wire——

                                                                                                            Desert sins repeated——

Rattlesnakes copulate——

                                                      American——

                                                                                                            Desert sins repeated——

I was a boy chasing a raven through a vineyard when I first laced my hands with barbed wire.

                                                   I can help your eyes:

                                                   countless people suffer

                                                                            American Desert sins repeated

about the author
Alonso Llerena

Alonso Llerena

Alonso Llerena is a Peruvian writer, visual artist, and educator. He holds an MFA from Bard College’s Milton Avery Graduate School of the Arts.

His work explores the interconnections between the poetics of exile and the poetics of remains, attending to the concrete materiality of trace and ruin—whether physical or lodged in memory. He is a poetry and prose editor at Cobra Milk.

He is the winner of the 2023 Ninth Letter Literary Award in Poetry, a Tin House alumnus, and a recipient of fellowships from the Martha’s Vineyard Institute of Creative Writing and Brooklyn Poets. His work has appeared in Prairie Schooner, The Offing, FENCE, Cream City Review, and elsewhere.