After 3 Years in ICE Detention, My Pen Pal Gets Married
Separate cells, separate
blocks. So: no wedding
night. The morning wedding,
though, seems (via money-
grubbing chat app, via
high school Spanish) ICE &
private prison subcontractor
approved. Hence my 7am tromp
to my mom’s yellow roses.
Red-gilted petals, pretty thorns.
And tiny invisible ones.
I found the perfect stem,
one bloom and two buds—
proto-promises (since who
can promise anything these days?
I wasn’t sure they’d even let me
past security.) Past security:
they stamped an off-
the-shelf zebra inside
my wrist. Like a nightclub,
I colluded with Guard.
Each door buzzed open
by someone not there. Guard
brought me (witness) back.
When the bride buzzed in,
the groom held my mom’s roses.
We had 15 minutes.
Cuffs: no. La palabra
de Dios: Sí. Gems: no.
I’m grateful? Sign, date,
stand together, smile
with La Pastora, hold it (no
phone zone) hands-up frame:
One. Two. Three. Then
Guard had The Headcount.
Back home, Duolingo practice:
Are you Angry? And I repeat,
not even knowing, really,
what I’m saying. Another
invisible thorn.
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c3 Crew is an educator, parent, and rule of threes enthusiast. His poems have appeared in journals such as Spillway, Prairie Schooner, and The Sugarhouse, Cincinnati & Gettysburg Reviews. His first chapbook, The 8 Ancient Geek Words for Love, debuted with Bottlecap Press. His next chapbook, Semi-Automatic, These Days, is forthcoming from The Vital Sparks. He lives in Seattle near wild bunnies, wilder blackberry, and an embarrassingly wilder number of hats.
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Tim Fitts is a short story writer and photographer. His work has been published in the New England Review, Granta, Shenandoah, Boulevard, Fugue, and the Baltimore Review, among others. His photographs have been shown in South Korea and the United States, most notably the Thomas Deans Gallery in Atlanta. His photographic works often combine color transparencies, as well as transparencies with black and white film.
