Assimilation

It begins like "vater" on stone--
with a drop
with a drip
non-stop
that rubs the colors off your face.
It is free speech, fast cars, and French fries--
New York in the eyes of a village boy.
It's a rat race;
It's lazy tongues, lost souls and a longing for home
without a home to go back to.
It's losing the language of your ancestors,
forgetting the prayers of your parents' gods,
and dreaming vain dreams in a foreign tongue
until one day it gives way.
Your lips parched;
you ask for water with a rounded mouth.

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