Chicano Poet

Friday, July 22, 2005

Elpidio, Illegal Alien, In The North Tower

Crossing the Sonoran Desert all he could think of
was getting to the Promised Land,
living the great white way

and sending some money back home
to help his father and mother,
his brothers and sisters.

A cousin was already in New York City,
loading clothes into trucks,
clothes going who knows where,

clothes made in China,
clothes made in South America,
so when Elpidio finally

made it to the Big Apple
he lived with his cousin
in a one-bedroom apartment,

he delivered breakfast to the North Tower
every morning, tacos, pancakes, donuts, gourmet coffee.
When the plane hit he was on the 90th floor.

Later, he felt himself falling with the building,
sucking in the smell of concrete, fire, sky.
Suddenly, he flew in all directions

and he couldn’t keep track of himself.
They found some of his body parts,
but they did not count him as a human being.


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