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Cattle call
he wakes before sunrise
walks to the construction site
sent there by a padrino.
waits with others for the choosing to begin
comrades in the neighborhood
rivals in this corral
the white hatted english foreman appears
the crowd begins to posture
he goes into his immigrant shuffle
toothy smile, hat in hand
flashes his best submissive yessa bossa grin
and does his dance- a poor imitation
of a bojangle jig that makes the bosses laugh
their dago monkey hired for their amusement
he laughs in self-mockery when the boss
opens his meager oil stained lunch bag
pulls out the cicoria sandwich
and shouts to his crew that this is why
wops are so good at digging ditches
they eat weeds just like mules
he does not understand all that is said
enough to know that if the bosses laugh
he must too. he swallows his pride, smiles, eyes wide
nodding his head to his english master
begins to play the role of fool
survive as he must for his family
Counsel
how wise you were
i did not know
until your guidance left me
unschooled
you were learned in the
ancients arts of earth
a zappaturi
forced into a labour here
that did not define you
pouring molten iron
foundry blackened and burned
smelling
of coal and smoke -
your clothes permanently
stained in the dull orange of
iron dust, rusted by your sweat
that no laundering could ever clean
i thought you must be bleeding
when i first saw you
home from work
you said
si surra sangu pi la famigia (you sweat blood for the family)
i never understood
until your counsel
left me
and i too became a father
but not as wise...
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