Hill & Pool Street—corner of—
strewn with flowers now—flower
power—we drove by there—the
other day—a cameraman filming
sorrow—just a corner on a hill—
in Biddeford—the town across the
river from us—“Johan Sebastián
Durán Guerrero was working in
the United States legally—he even
had a social security card”—the
one grandad told me to always—
carry in my wallet—Johan looks
happy in this photo—on my phone—
smiling—relaxed—a body—of
water behind him—“The incident
was witnessed by his partner and
their three-year-old daughter”—
last words—“I tried to stop”—
after all you don’t expect—ICE
goons—to careen into you and
shriek at you and pull guns on
you—terrorize you—in this free
country—“the worst of the worst”—
he wasn’t even the guy—they were
looking for—words fail—bullet
holes in a windshield—right above
the steering wheel






Note: Some quotes in this poem are taken from a Biddeford-Saco Now story by Sydney Richelieu