|
Comment on this
article
Hard Working American
by Gabriela Anaya Valdepeña
Why did the chicken cross the road?
To steal a job from a decent hard-working American.
I don’t picture you
up at five
sun shinning
in your cerulean eyes
picking bananas
all shades of yellow.
I don’t picture you
in designer overalls
laughing
as you sweat
while dirt paints
your acrylic nails.
I don’t imagine
you thank God
for rain.
I don’t’ see you
sharing grapes
with strangers,
or song
a cappella
under the moon.
I dream you alone
sipping iced cognac
on cold marble,
looking out onto
a sea of vanity.
Return to:
|