By the Waters of Babylon

Yesterday, encouraged by Mexican authorities and agreed to by the relief workers that are a lifeline to the refugees forced to remain in Mexico as they pursue their vanishingly slim hope of asylum, the pocket of tents nearest the bridge and the people in them moved over to the other side of the levee, behind the fence topped with concertina wire.

Take a look at the map sometime.

Matamoros, in Mexico, and Brownsville, in the US, twin cities divided by the weeping, open wound of a river, armed guardians of our privilege on the bridges, are almost as far south as you can go in this country. Further south by far than any other place on the border.