I heard a Mexican goddess singing from my street corner
who quickly faded away before her song was sliced in half by by the shouts and cries of children
in men’s clothing.
Gospel shouted through a megaphone told me that Jesus saves
and that salvation was free,
though certainly not cheap.
Hypnosis dressed as music had a few tears in her gown
and I heard one last “amen”
before I pulled my window down.
Meanwhile you were standing on a busy corner holding signs.
You couldn’t even remember what they said,
you just knew they want you to buy.
Sweat runs down your face and you wonder
when your dignity became worth so very little,
hovering somewhere in the middle
of poverty
and liberty.
It is a fine line to tread
for people like you and me.