TATTOO DEPORTATION

TATTOO DEPORTATION I’d almost forgotten that damned tattoo A small symbol that years ago, I had got It was a couple of lads, drunk on vacation The tattooist did it in red on my shoulder I’m a bit embarrassed now that I am older Its meaning, I never heard any explanation Just that for a day or two, my skin felt hot It’s small and discreet, so what should I do The symbol meant almost nothing to me A kind of squiggly letter, kind of Arabic Yet I thought nothing of it at immigration But wearing a singlet vest it was on display The guy scowled and others took me away I tried to plead ignorance, I wasn’t Haitian Yet cuffed, I got scared and felt quite sick Marched off to an office, no longer free It was a nightmare that lasted several days They kept pointing at the symbol, annoyed It appeared to be a sign of local rebel group And plaintively, ever insisting I knew zero Perhaps they thought I was the group hero I was sweaty, trying to jump through a hoop Thinking of damaging phrases I had to avoid And all the time under the guy’s steely gaze Finally, with no answers given, I was spared Hustled back to a plane, to be headed home By now, there was some local press interest I looked up that symbol and found the link But it was not quite what others may think I was keeping silent, as I just thought it best As my world had turned into monochrome With it now erased, well, I no longer cared