It is said that many a king in troubled Europe would sell his crown for a day of happiness.
I have seen a monarch who held tightly the jewel of happiness.
On Lombard street in Philadelphia, as evening dropped to earth, I gazed upon a laborer duskier than a sky devoid of moon. He was seated on a throne of flour bags, waving his hand imperiously as two small boys played on their guitars the ragtime tunes of the day.
God’s blessing on the monarch who rules on Lombard Street in Philadelphia.
This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on September 11, 2021, by the Academy of American Poets.
Don’t call me immigrant
I am the New American
striving in New America
as a New American
I am not your invader
not an animal
nor criminal
I am a just person
just striving
in a New America
In New America I am
a full-time student
overtime worker
volunteering in my free time
if I plan enough ahead for free time
if I can even afford the free time
if my free time is approved
I work hard in New America
3rd shift warehouse
2nd shift my house
always on call
no days off
freelance for life
4 jobs a week
blue and white collar
Don’t call me immigrant
I am the New American
surviving in New America
as a New American
I am not your invader
not an animal
nor criminal
I am a just person
just surviving
in a New America
This is New America
student loans for all
high rent
higher utilities
low pay
rising healthcare costs
the cost of living
—deadly
no living wage
living enraged
my cousins encaged
for wanting to live in
a safer part of
New America
Don’t call me immigrant
I am the New American
living in New America
as a New American
I am not your invader
not an animal
nor criminal
I am a just person
just living
in a New America
Strong and proud
able to withstand
the distance I have traveled
the distance from my family
the distance between us
the distance of our dialects
the distance in our churches
the distance in our homes
the distance between my ancestors
and my grandchildren
the distance from the streets
to the dorm rooms
the distance from the field
to the corner office suite
Don’t call me immigrant
I am the New American
dreaming of New America
as a New American
I am not your invader
not an animal
nor criminal
I am a just person
just dreaming
of a New America
Old America
don’t be afraid
we are all America
North America
Central America
South America
We are all Americans
We all strive in Americas
We all survive in Americas
We all live in Americas
They are all the same America
We all dream of a greater America
I want you to be paid a living wage
live in affordable housing
without college debt
or medical debt
or credit card debt
or national debt
I want no more racism
I am speaking of a New America
I am part of New America
whether you like it or not
so join me, please
Copyright © 2020 by Huascar Medina. From Un Mango Grows in Kansas (Spartan Press, 2020). Used with the permission of the poet.