Alberto Rios calls the Poetry Crisis Line

COUNSELOR: Poetry Crisis Line, what is your emergency?

CALLER: The border is a line that birds cannot see.

COUNSELOR: You mean like a window?

CALLER: The border is a beautiful piece of paper folded carelessly in half.

COUNSELOR: Oh—so these birds you mentioned—are they origami cranes?

CALLER: The border is where flint first met steel,

COUNSELOR: Oh no. How far along are you on the paper cranes? Were you going for the traditional thousand?

CALLER: starting a century of fires.




Read the rest of “The Border” by Alberto Rios here.

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