POET
for Tino Villanueva
In my friend’s story,
he is a migrant worker.
It is a true story.
He carries that small village of pain
over Texas ground
picking okra,
one generation removed
from the hurt
of cotton.
In town he is
pinned back against plyboard,
a laughed-at Chicano.
How did this man grow?
He will tell you:
I built myself
word by word
scaling language
like buildings,
rotating sounds
under my tongue
until
I could speak.
—Carmi Soifer
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previously published in "Summer House Review Anthology", Volume 1, 2002