It’s the sound you hear
when you turn off your TV.
It’s the sound that old men make at night
as they sleep on the sidewalk
outside empty loft buildings.
It’s the sound of air escaping your mouth
after you get the notice
that your rent is increasing.
It’s that same sound you heard
when you tore that ticket
for jaywalking.
It’s the sound of your head
getting slammed on a police cruiser,
and the sound you hear
when the power company shuts off your electricity
after a hard day of working.
It’s the flash on a camera phone when
a Latina border agent takes a selfie.
It’s that ringing in your ear when someone
tells you to go back to your country.
It’s the click from a key
as toddlers are locked in cages.
It’s the exact same sound
you hear in your head
when you look around
and realize
it doesn’t have to be
this way.
Nikolai Garcia sleeps in Compton, CA. He works with homeless youth in East Hollywood, and is an Assistant Editor for Dryland, a literary arts journal based in South Central Los Angeles. He has been published in the anthologies, The Coiled Serpent, (Tia Chucha Press), Extreme (Vagabond Books), No Tender Fences, and in various literary journals. His first chapbook, Nuclear Shadows of Palm Trees, was published by DSTL Arts. He is also a founding member of the Coleman Collective.