My mother's side consists
of peasants of the countryside,
dark complexion, round Indian eyes,
everyone's poverty thinks of money
I have for them to buy
A pair of oxen for cousin one
An engined plow for cousin two
A new thatched roof for cousin three
A sewing machine for my aunty's daughter
A hundred dollars for a wedding.
I am an American who can grow
money on trees, each leave
a thousand too short.
What I have saved would not
buy what they want on demand
and when days are hot and humid,
they would sit to neglect their garden
and rice fields, without a plan
and a will, my arrival is seen
like a blessing in disguise
my moto rich expensive and desirable
my clothes fashionable and different
my accent an American full of confidence
and tending to their needs
a breach between my own comfort
with that of their poverty.
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