BLISTERS OF MY FEET

I hunch by back, dallying 

Toiling my days -

Tan of skin, sweating oceanic salt;

with unbearable protruding pain 

Here the humanity brisk 

with unfriendly eyes -

Taking distance by a callous return 

To that, for which

I worked an acre of land -

not my own

They denied worth of my labour 

with cudgel in their hands, and

Bargained my flesh with their tinsel money 

and fed me with blisters of my feet