Portside

Teresa, our Mexican neighbor, 

climbs our porch steps on arthritic legs, 

carrying a plate of fresh tamales, 

still warm, wrapped in cloth, 

because they're having a cook-out in their yard

with all the tias and grandbabies,

and we're included in the golden circle

of familia, through no virtue

of our own, yet here she is again at our door

with a plate of something delicious, or a big plastic bag 

filled with nopales from the edible pads 

of the giant cactus in their yard

which she has skinned and cubed and boiled

in salted water. They're slippery as okra 

and tart as lemons and she swears they will cure

a long list of ailments, including 

but not limited to cancer, high blood pressure, 

diabetes...standing on our porch, leaning

against the railing, she enumerates

the benefits while I smile and nod, "Si, si, gracias..."

My friend who lives in a rich neighborhood 

says she's seen ICE patrolling, looking for gardeners

and maids escaping over the back fences of Marin.

They're tearing apart families like clumps

of seedlings, uprooting whole delicate

ecosystems, but what they don't

understand is the mycelian nature

of kinship, how love is a weed

that travels across borders in a bird's belly

and pops up waving its arms, no matter the law.

Our block resounds with spangled mariachi tunes

all summer long, and I'd be lying if I said 

I wasn't jealous some evenings,

lying awake while parties go on around us,

because this land is their land, and this devotion

is tough and joyous, and Teresa can't read

the red card that says Know Your Rights 

in English and Spanish, nor understand

how I make a living, but she knows

what to do with the guava tree

growing along our driveway, whose leaves

are medicinal in dozens of ways--whose leaves,

as the Bible says, are given for the healing of the nations.

Alison Luterman is a poet, essayist and playwright. She has written four books of poetry, most recently In the Time of Great Fires. Her next book Hard Listening will be published this month. She is also author of a book of essays about late-life romance entitled Feral City, as well as of scripts and songs for numerous theater pieces. She lives with her late-life love and her unruly cat in Oakland.