Blind Eye - Poem #3

A Poem by toritto

Young Mexican picker man
rises from a mattress on the floor
of a dilapidated trailer
shared with nine other mattresses

buys a chicken bag lunch
from the local seller of chicken bag lunches
climbs on board the contractor bus
with contractor boss man.

Young Mexican picker man
plucks tomatoes to fill his basket
under the blazing Florida sun
his sweat anointing our Florida earth.

Piece work at forty five cents a bucket
thirty two pounds of tomatoes
less than penny and a half a pound;
it is cheaper to rent slaves than to own them.

Picker man wants a tiny house
para su familia
and so he toils with his woman and son
in plain sight yet sight unseen
for all of us the blind eye turn.

Behind the gates of Mar-a-Lago
in the county of the picker man
amid the laughter
a black tie ball.

Christ in the Eucharist
as invisible as the cost of red tomato
mixed with an ounce of vodka
a poor man’s labor
a dash of a woman’s tears.