The Last Flight Out of Cochabamba

by Laura Dyer

Fear
It is in their eyes
And yours
The rocks they throw carry it
The way the tears did
When they fell from your eyes
After the men with guns
Came for your father
But found you instead
The daughter of low wage factories
You saw the fear and the bullets
Of the Cocaine Regimes

You love this place
Bolivia
Embraced by the Andes
Nestled in her chest
And you mourn with it
When it weeps for her children
It is this love
That allows you to bear the cries
Of ‘Yankee go home’
They do not hate you, they hate your
Blonde hair
And blue eyes
They hate the man from Plains
In his big White House

Melusa saved you
In more ways than one
When she fought off the gunmen
The next man they came for
They remembered
To shoot the maid
This was before
She left for Chiparé
the jungle that exchanged maids
for coca runners

So when you leave
You will cry for them
For their fear
For their hope
For your unrequited love
On the last flight out of Cochabamba

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These Are Fragments is out of print from The Blasted Tree Store.

Laura Dyer

Contributing Author