Poem -

mozart blues

AMERICAN DREAMS

You see them

Every morning

Lined outside

Any US Embassy

Around the world

The visa seekers

The American Dream seekers

The poor, the dispossessed

The disenfranchised

The marginilzed

The rich, the mighty

The powerful

The beautiful

All looking for a slice

Of the American Dream

Some to sample its delicious flavors

Others to try to live

Among its deceptive lures

America beckons

As it has for years and years

Land of the free

Home of the brave

Lady Liberty

Land where a dream

And a little luck

Can make you too

The richest man alive

So they line up

Outside my office door

Just to talk

To the American Visa God

Spin a tale

Tell a story

Play a game

Pretend to be

What the American Visa God needs

And then you get

Your piece of the American Pie

And off you go

Only to end up

In a thousand neglected

Backwaters of the American nightmare

Flotsam

Floating from one marginal

Illegal job to another

Prey to the predators

Ever behind

The rent demands

For you see

America is a rich habit

It is expensive to maintain

The first taste is free

The rest will cost yah

You life, your soul

And 70 hours per week

At sub-minimum wages

Soon you will be speaking

English

With the poor, the disenfranchised

The rich will ignore you

Not know your name

The poor will fear

You will take their jobs away

And your friends back home

Will wait to hear

About you became a big shot

In the American land

They don't want to hear

No tales of working at McDonald's

Working 70 hours a week

At five jobs per day

No, No, No

That's not the America

They see on TV

They want it now

They want their MTV

Where's the babes?

Where's the parties?

Where's the sex with naked ladies

Come on man,

You're holding out

Tell us the tales

Of Wild America

And so they line up

Each and every day

Line up outside

My office window

And we have the power

To set them free

Some to enable them

To dream the American dream

Some to send to the American nightmare

Others to go back home

To wherever they come back

They will be back

They will be back

Nothing will deter them

Not even the lack

Of a piece of paper

From the American Visa God

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