No Mosque in Manzanar

I confronted a man selling postcard images of…
of Ingenuity being toppled, only 100 yards away
He sold pictures like street-vendors hock
Gyros and falafels and hot dogs
And I wondered if my vehement speech would wallow
Or if this gentleman would go home tonight
And look in the mirror

And I wondered about the anger and anguish we possess
And why this man doesn’t make the news
But those who wish to celebrate their religion do?
And he looks like one and she looks like one
And even in this liberal city we still hate them
Hate who? Ourselves? Our neighbors? Our God?
Whose God?

There is a stretch of land between Gaviota and Jalama
Roads not even Frost can conjure are there
Rolling ground swells ache amongst these private roads
But who have seen them?
How many hikers and boaters have seen the rocky and sandy stretches?
And how many miles of this breadth?
There are few who lay claim to this Pacific

How many miles away may I set up camp?
Is a seven year old allowed to celebrate his birthday on
the day Pearl Harbor was bombed?
What about a 17-year-old? 27? 77?
What about a my friend Takuro…
The descendant of a Kamikaze
Born on the same day…
His beard is turning grey, yet what age is he? 8?

There is no mosque in Manzanar
But you wouldn’t blink an eye if there was
There is no mosque in Manzanar
And so President(s), define cultural faux pas