Hello, she's no longer picking fruit either! Or perhaps there's a govt. sponsored program were they hand out laptops to migrant workeres. "Sorry no healt -care or schools but here's something to keep you 'connected'. She 's got a website. I never said anything derogatory, well expect of course that you don't know what you're talking about. Like that's ever stopped you before. Anyway, I'm just having fun. Aren't you? One Country is the time Eddy and I held hands cause we were square dance partners. The rest of the time you're throwing sand

You're too funny. I was simply trying to lighten things up as you and abbas traded barbs on who was the better writer. Did you drink your vitamin C today? The fruit question was a defense. She threw that out and I thought it was a funny thing to throw in an argument. You are the one making the derogatory isms about Hispanics and their role as house cleaners and turndown specialists. You forgot to mention nannies. Where that came from, I have no idea. You are hypersensitive. I made no reference to you growing up, I was simply relaying the fact that you, now, as a big girl, live in the suburbs. That would make you a suburbanite. Peasants in this day and age would most likely live in rural poverty or inner city poverty. That would not be you, becasue you live in suburban LA. Correct? Thanks for the comparison to Eddy, but, frankly, I do not think One Country is equal to throwing sand in your face.

Good point about the oversimplification, I guess when I wrote it that wasn't really a consideration as much as the purpose of the poem. This poem was actually based on an experience I had hiking in the mountains by myself. There were a number of trees in the woods, but one very tall tree that this bird was circling, I guess I got a little lazy with my description on that one. The gender didn't really matter, it was more that I wanted to personify absence. The absence was so real that day that I felt confronted by it. My intent was for the poem to be somewhat ambiguous, as I prefer the poem to be applicable in any way the reader interprets it, so that could be a question of taste. But I can totally relate with your feeling of discontinuity when reading it. It came across that way to me also. Thanks for the input.

Please do not flatter yourself.

Whether picking fruit or cleaning up after rich people, peasants are peasants. I guess weez inside-nigga's, cuz weez pretty an maza' shur dun liked it when we sat on his knee, I use to hike up my pettycoats shuffle my feets and sing Hot tamales and they's red hot yeah I got 'em for sale Hot tamales and they's red hot yeah I got 'em for sale One for a nickle and two for dime I would sell you more but they ain't none of mine. Hot tamales and they's red hot yeah we got 'em for sale! Then mazza' would pats my head and give me a hunk of pork jowl. I'd give it to mama and she'd flavor up d' greens with it. Ew-wee!!! What the fuck do you know about how I grew u

I think the better argument is that I'm rating this on a curve, and after reading so many dull and ugly things this is a breath of clever and intelligent air. The fact is if he was a complete stranger I would probably praise him more then I already do. You can never be a prophet in your own hometown and all that. I knew this boy once, in 1st grade, Eddy, I think his name was. He really liked me and I liked him. He insisted on expressing his affections by throwing sand in my face. Once he came over to my easel and started painting my face with his brush. The teacher screamed at him but I knew he was frustrated with his inability to show me how much he loved me. You remind me of him