These quickly flipped pages, the work of our modern day sages, trapped in our below-average wages, creating pitfalls so cancerous they got stages, they say we’re just going through economic phases, you know the pendulum swings – yeah they actually say this, got most of us ignoring what the actual time of day is, we’ve been in dark so long, can God save us?
The grass is greener than ever but the cash cow still grazes, forgetting it’s this land not the sands that truly made us. Yet they keep calling it a displacement of their cultural make-up. Yet these conversations behind our backs isn’t why at night we stay up. It’s because we’re sweeping your floors at night after your kids layup. Going home in the mornings after your bosses berate us.
Got a kid at home who wants to be like Russ, but can’t make it to practice from the outskirts – no bus, so now he stuck on the bench as a barely-called sub, straight rust, got his teammates telling him both him and his dad suck, that he should be going back to Pakistan where they supposedly came from, that he should stick to the math books and chilling with Dim Sum, that’s the name they gave his best friend Brandon to remind him where he from, even though he was born just a block from all of them. Half the time they wish they could run. The other half they wish they could pull out a gun. The reality is these bricks weigh a ton. Back breaking sticks and stones under rays of an immigrant’s sun.
