How hard to be poor and a stranger
in the promised land where poverty humiliates
those who pride themselves
on being able to cope.
“Don’t you “little girl” me!
I’ve been carrying this family
on my back
for a whole year!”.
Step over the homeless vet child
pass the line at the free clinic, the junkies riding horse
the cops, the dealer, the blond crack whore
the schizo-cynic screamin on the corner
It will be a hot Summer up on tar beach
on the fire escape at night
in your underwear
your back against the brown brick
Sleeping under the stars
listening to the lullaby
of a far away siren
still softly singing that American dream.