Issue
#1

January
2009

a poem by Douglas I. Thompson

A Dallas Street Corner, Early Morning

Migrant workers crowd
street corners
Like prostitutes or
gay hustlers
The sight of a pick-up
truck
Withered old, sun-beat
white man at the
wheel
They rise like rockets
to their feet
A desperate gesture, a
pleading face
"You got work?" they
ask with their eyes,
Unable to pronounce the
words in English

previously appeared in "remark" (June 2007)

© Douglas I. Thompson

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