名人诗歌|Invisibility

We celebrate their days，

eat hot dogs， love baseball，

but they say we were born to weed，

change diapers， carry crates^{1 in the grey of dawn}

while they sleep. Awake， they look at us without seeing.

We see ourselves clearly， know ourselves

precisely^{2， without parades and picnics.}

To survive， we must.

I'm one of the invisible living among the notable.

Day after day I hear doors shut，

stumble over slurs^{3， and bump into the man}

who nods yes， yes， but isn't listening.