40 hours a week
Sweat filled
Motions
Mopping
Time
Into
Hourly
Wage
While
He
Sits in his
Office
Planning his next
Vacation
His daughter’s
Luxury car present
At graduation
40 hours a week
Spent paying
His mortgage
His car payment
Yet, he doesn’t even
Know our names
First
Or
Last
That
Is
No nicknames
Just a blank
Stare
Of recollection
Like Nana before
She passed away
His Alzheimers
Is induced by
Arrogance
He sees us as replaceable
Deeming his
Weekly wages compensation
For lack of humanization
Lack of friendship
That brotherhood
Bond
Bonded
By
Life
In
The
Trenches
Day in
Day out
We sweat for him
Stave off sleep for him
Yet,
He doesn’t even know our names
Doesn’t know why we can’t find a better job.
He calls me guy
Her hun
Him pal
Her bud
Thinks our
$7.50 an hour is not slave labor
In his estimation
The Cubans should be happy with their
Treatment
Because they chose to come here
And fulfill his dream
In his estimation
My ancestral middle passage
Passed between
My parents
In the middle of the night
Nothing more
With
Our eyes
We scream
Give us our respect
Before our paychecks
Treat us like people
Location of birth
Did not make us any less
The flesh of the flesh
The blood of the blood
Of economic dreams
We know HIS name
He made sure of that
As he wields his green light saber
Killing earthly vapors
He likes me because I speak English
They like me because I teach them English
My best student is the Ecuadorian mother of eight
240 dollars a week won’t allow her to emancipate while he
Elongates his bank
I know the names of her children
Pedro, Tito
Raquel, Ramon
Juanita, Rosa
Carmen and Esperanza
I know their names and I have not met them
I know them because I care
All the while
He doesn’t know our names
He doesn’t even know
We
Are there
Aaron Middlepoet Jackson, USA
The Social Poet 