Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Foreclosed in America.
Sign on the door: “Per me si va”*
The road was paved with gold and precious stones
At every step a sign, don’t look behind!
Everyone, get your chance, come to our shores
Move to America.
The words spoke of freedom and vast prairies
Wild rivers, new horizons
Land-a-plenty, with no fences
We rode toward Paradise, toward Zions
And all the way out West
Following Lewis and Clark and many moons
Settling in America.
Wife, children, a cabin milled before winter rest
Heartaches, lost limbs, broken bets
Woods to conquer, nests to upset
Making it in America.
When husband’s hand was amputated
And a medical debt cleared the house
And the horses, and all our future gutted
While fully mortgaged in America,
All the signs were in a strange prose
No art or science helped, no music or history
Not even Braille, Hebrew or Morse.
The only way to be American.
I knew nothing of promissory notes
Just things I could eat, carrots and cabbage
And a language without Kings and Toads.
Who knew I’d be foreclosed !
*Dante, Divine Comedy
Sign at the Entrance to Hell
“Through me is the way to…”