EAT THE RICH
1.
out in Calumet City, there weren’t any billionaires,
so we drove to River Oaks Mall & stole
all the pennies out of the fountain.
after we added it all up, we had enough
for a gyro & some cheese fries at Pano’s.
every Cal City resident got exactly one fry
dipped in cheese, & it turned out that old fountain
couldn’t give us love or the winning lottery numbers,
but it could grant local wishes, wishes with a budget.
2.
out in Calumet City, there weren’t any billionaires,
so we drove to the steel mill that laid off our dads,
but when we got inside, everyone looked just like our dads.
they had the same bigotes & everything.
we left the steel mill together & drove to El Roble.
we ate a whole pig from the pig feet (tasty in stews,
my dad would say) to the pig ears (fry them up,
my dad would say). we drank cervezas & toasted
those cabrones who owned the steel mills,
who were nowhere near Calumet City, who were off
in France, perhaps, sucking down snail guts, who lived
their whole lives not knowing the wealth of pig grease.
3.
out in Calumet City, there weren’t any billionaires,
but wasn’t there a kid that won a poetry prize?
Oscar turned to José & said, yo, José,
didn’t you win some money, bro?
& José said, you don’t want to eat me, bro,
i read too much. i probably taste like library farts.
but they did eat José, & afterward, they wished
they hadn’t because they couldn’t brush their teeth
without praising the dirty mirror, cheap toothpaste,
morning breath. oh, they were cursed to ode
their whole beautiful, ordinary lives.
4.
out in Calumet City, there weren’t any billionaires,
but there was a mayor, & when the Cal City residents showed up,
the mayor panicked & said, how did you discover my money laundering?
& the Cal City residents hadn’t discovered any scheme,
though they were not surprised to learn the mayor was crooked
since every Cal City kid had at least one picture with a mayor
serving a prison sentence. the residents said, relax. relax, bro.
we’re abolitionists. we didn’t come to arrest you.
we came to claim your money & serve you
in a Memorial Park cookout.
ξ
José Olivarez is the son of Mexican immigrants. His debut book of poems, Citizen Illegal, was a finalist for the PEN/Jean Stein Award and a winner of the 2018 Chicago Review of Books Poetry Prize