Ruth Z. Deming

Hate must be taught
So must stargazing
at the teeming Milky Way
and waiting tables
in Haiti, flies buzzing
against the dirty windows.

Remember Dickensian days
tossing garbage out the window
and into gutters?
O vile stench! a pig sty
on every corner.

Father is a sanitation worker
in Haiti. A man we cannot kiss
or hug or say, Welcome home
from work Daddy. Like a deep sea
diver who gathers pearls,

His body bends and twists as he
searches for offal, under ponds
beneath the moonlight, his arms
finally filled with slush,
black as tar, a hero scorned

for what other men refuse to
do. He hums when he goes down
his long braided hair matted
with fish-like strands when he
comes back up, o Daddy,
Daddy-o.