african immigrant children are nothing,
but the connection between two ideas.
they tether themselves to two unrelated
thoughts and wonder why they fall, like autumn
leaves, painted against a mundane background.
their hair is soaked and scarlet, from the sea and from blood,
and it wraps itself around the air like mindless weeds
unable to retain language.
african immigrant children open their mouths,
close their eyes, cross their fingers,
and hope the right language comes out.
african immigrant children are in the knot
between America and Africa, and as
the nations’ differences grow –
the knot tightens around them,
strangling them
to give them life.
african immigrant children have nothing.
they have no home or a name, but simply a –
hyphen. ashamed they hide between African and American,
choosing nothing but the space between.
while they cause no trouble, and barely take up space,
they still believe they’re the problem.
they must hide in an overlooked liminal
to save
themselves –
to survive.
ABOUT
Audric Adonteng is a Ghanaian poet raised in Massachusetts. His poetry explores his existence as the son of immigrant parents. Growing up in a small town, Audric relives profound experiences and brings them to life with his unique poetic voice. He has been published in 2022 Art on the Trails: EXPOSURE, The Eunoia Review, Lead & Pulp Literary Magazine, and Polyphony Lit.
Moonbow Magazine 