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The Immigrant

I live in a house not my house that
              houses a man who is not my man.

I care for children I did not conceive and
                                        conceive children I cannot care for.

I love these babies I cannot feed yet 
                                        feed forkfuls to another woman's babies I cannot love.

I speak a language that says nothing to me and
                                  say nothing, to others, in my native tongue.

I wash clothes I do not wear and
                                  wear clothes too worn to wash.

I prepare food I cannot eat yet
                                  eat food not fit to prepare.

I clean a toilet in which I cannot pee and
                                               pee in a toilet that will never be clean.

I ride buses taking me where I want never to go yet
                                                    never find a bus to take me where I need to go.

I witness crimes I report and commit no
              crimes but am reported, deported, fined and told never to return.

My dreaming eyes depict a town littered with people
 	          				         my eyes hold no more.


-- Lisa Marie Sandoval

Copyright 1999-2007 Lisa Marie Sandoval. All rights reserved