come, exploit me
take pictures of me
with your hundred
dollar cameras
and tell me i need
help and take their
money and give me
none
come, exploit me
speak of the golden
values that have
kept us alive for
so long without
sufficient medical
supplies to the
untrained eye
it would seem
as if you are a
martyr but you
are the devil
in disguise
come to exploit
me and my mother
and my brothers
and my future
of daughters
and sons to be
the image of a
starving child
in a classy
gallery in Soho
where real art
is deprivation
and those deprived
have no sense to
put emotions to art
but just to words
and songs
stories passed down
of witches and
the old gods
come, exploit me
tell me of your
bachelors degree
and what you have
learned in those countries
overseas because i believe
that with this art of
whispered words
i can teach you more
than you can ever show
me through yours.
copyright 2004 kristina lopez
