Dance to the Music of Justice

by Nabin Adhikari



We lived in a desert storm. We

left home at midnight, leaving the only real


friends I had, to go to a cool-

weather storm of a new country. We


were unwelcomed by the new community, left

to find another school


for a better temperature of our relationship. We

erased the memories of back home lurk-


ing around my brain and forgot the late-

night beating from our motherland. We


took to the streets to strike

against injustice. We marched straight


to your home, to demand justice we

deserve. Sing-


ing for equality, we brought the racist sin

to your doorstep. We


raised the thin

glass cups we filled with our Monday gin


to stay hydrated, when we

played jazz


outside your White House on a hot Sunday in June,

sweating as we


danced to the fair song underneath the sun that will die

as the day ends. We will come back soon.



This poem first appeared in From the Fallout Shelter.

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