the race to the border before the election

i get a call

from an old worker bee

in Guatemala,

sent back

for legal technicalities.

Francisco.

he's pleasant

on the phone,

much more pleasant

and

energetic than when

he worked

for me,

but he's an honest and good soul.

i'm coming back,

he says.

my family too.

do you have room

for us to stay in,

and work?

we're on our way to the border

now,

hopefully your President wins

again before we get

there, it could take

awhile,

what with the long walk,

the banditos,

and grande crowds.

we've heard a rumor here

that everyone that votes

for him and the lady,

has to take three migrants in.

is that true?

who is this?

i ask. the line is breaking up.

it's me,

me, Francisco.