A POET ABOUT THE MIGRANT CRISIS
they tell me:
they are dirty they stink they steal they carry guns they have AIDS
they don’t have passports they’ve been convicted they’ve been expelled they grill
ducks on the Una they sell,
they team up with the local mafia they rape and beat
they kill
what did I actually see?
a young man in his twenties how tired I am
leaning against the dirty trolley window
in complete concentration
via a broken mobile screen
is watching a broadcast of a football match