immigration poem by David Michael Jackson

We are all illegal immigrants
What should they do?
What would you do?
Work for a dollar per hour
in those factories
on the river,
the other side,
globalization itself bringing the riches of
a buck per hour.
“We feed those people a meal”,
I heard the bosses brag
on the other side
of the river.
Shame on them,
those illegal immigrants,
who fixed my roof.
Shame on them for not
accepting the Ford dollar
per hour.
Shame on them for not
living in the shanty
beside the factory.
What would you do
for your family?
Did I tell you?
We feed those people a meal.