APPLICATION for NATURALIZATION
In Cuidad Juarez pretty girls are prey.
Twenty-five years ago Alma fled north.
Volunteer tutor, I help her fill in the blanks.
Have you ever been a habitual drunkard? ______
Have you ever committed a crime,
served a prison sentence? _______
Engaged in, or compelled someone else to engage in
Prostitution? _______ Armed insurrection? ________
Are you a Nazi? Communist? Terrorist? ________
(When my teen-aged Russian-Jewish father
reached Ellis Island, did the gate-keeper ask,
Are you an Anarchist? Socialist? Bolshevist?________ )
I drill Alma for the final hurdle—her person-to-person
interview with la Migra, daunting as Class V rapids—
boulders, whirlpools, thundering chutes.
Applicant must demonstrate English proficiency,
knowledge of US History and Government.
The 20-page USCIS study guide—blue, like my American passport—
contains 100 questions. How many home-grown patriots
could pass this exam? I quiz Alma on Zoom,
frown when she slips into Spanish. On bus rides—
—lunch breaks—late nights at her kitchen table—
she squints at her blue booklet’s small print.
Sprawled beside the TV like seals on a sun-warmed rock,
her US-born teenagers nudge each other, mimic the way
Mamá cracks her knuckles, how she gnaws her lower lip.
