Tim Barrus, New York Times

I am a communist. When you’re living this close to the edge, migration will take you to wherever it wants you to go, you will go there, whose rooms are the darker ones, the ones from the woods who had no shoes. Children should have shoes. It’s a conflict over resources. We are a bitter species who are terrified someone or something is going to take away what we have which is never much. Hide the silver. Dive into the book of myths. Is there anyone who thinks any of this can be fixed. A line in the sand is one thing. It marks location where the migrant has been seen as the Other for generations. We are pack animals. We seek to exploit any weakness that we can. From time to time, we might work somewhat collaboratively, but the eloquent thunder of There Are More Behind Them is unappeasable. Shackled like slaves to a highway bridge of little crabs and all their lives of tough weather, and the smells of piss and tar. What do we owe them. Everything.