AG2025_1170201a or about the future


What Green Card Holders Should Know in Preparing to Travel Outside the U.S. (NYTimes)

border checkpoints have enacted what the White House refers to as “advanced vetting.” The measures, which include detaining and deporting tourists, have led allied countries, like Germany, to update travel advisories for their citizens about traveling to the United States

The Department of Homeland Security in April announced that it would screen immigrants’ social media for evidence of antisemitism, which it said would be grounds for “denying immigration benefit requests.” The screen looks for evidence of “endorsing, espousing, promoting, or supporting antisemitic terrorism,” according to the statement.

[…]

Mr. Wildes also recommended that green card holders who travel frequently apply for Global Entry, a C.B.P. program that expedites the clearance process when entering the United States.


All I ever wanted was Bird’s game, 
quietly telling opponents the spot on the floor where he
would
rise, after a screen and two dribbles, in the corner like a
yellow
sun and let the ball fly. I’m always writing to you 
to remind myself that all love poems are about the future. 
Under the bright lights of this metaphor, I’m digging deep,
not
vanishing when it matters most, to find the heart to take a
shot
when the clock winds down to nothing.

Bird, Tomás Q. Morín

AG2020_1480772b- or don’t that be jazz?


Tamora’s baby came out Black, you say? Damn. The more
I hear of Aaron the Moor, the more I think: don’t that be jazz?

A note above ~ A note below ~ The note between ~
The tonic ~ Enclosed ~ Pivoted up ~ Octave ~ That be jazz.

Oh, if the bard could be Black! Her stride would be royal, jeweled toes?…?
your ideas must speak. Aaron and more. Till’s name still rises! That be jazz.

Such Sweet Thunder, A. Van Jordan


up into the silence

up into the silence the green
silence
with a white earth in it

you will (kiss me) go

out into the morning the young
mourning with a young world in it

(kiss me) you will go

on into the sunlight the fine
sunlight with a firm day in it

you will go (kiss me

down into your memory and
a memory and memory

i) kiss me (will go)

ee cummings


AG2024_1960350aa or I don’t remember the fear of that year


[…]

But on this day
we sit in that room and play cards together
while I slip my papers in the half-moon tray
and take a number, wait for someone
behind the bulletproof glass to say

take another. And I feel only love.
I don’t remember the fear of that year,
or the fear of the years that hover
before and after. I remember
the windowless room and, outside,

Beforetimes, Margot Kahn

spaces where time flickers

Zura Lagarde, The Silent Pulse Beneath Still Stone, Artmedia Gallery, April 25 – July 30, 2025.

“I perceive the spaces where time flickers—where déjà vu hums like a distant echo, where a breath feels borrowed from another life.”