MEChistA Voices
Las Maquiladoras
There are women dying
And mothers crying
By the hundreds
By the score
Just beyond the border
Yet
Too far for Uncle Sam and the Lone Ranger
To swoop down in blazing saddles and save them
As they take their Hi-Ho Silver
Away
Yet
Not close enough for Monteczuma himself
to march in and take his revenge
There are women dying
And mothers crying
By the hundreds
By the score
Just beyond the reach
Of the long arm of the law
But not far enough-to protect them-
And who decides if they are worth protecting at all?
So into the silence of the night they fall
While the decision has been made to do nothing
People look the other way and do nothing
Everyone turns their heads and does nothing
But...
SOMEBODY HAS GOT TO DO SOMETHING!
Because their bones are still speaking!
And a mother's knees are creaking
Bent down and praying to the Powers That Be
To PROTECT her BABIES from the powers at play!
Gone
Missing in the light of day
Now lost among the darkened streets
Where families stay-working for barely enough to eat
Robbed of choices and voices
So they
March in silence every day
And on into the night
To make motherboards and dashboards
For the AMERICAN WAY
Which learns to ignore
The price that others pay
For this privileged living
For OUR privileged living
For it is a privilege to live
Far away from the dying
Bodies burned by indifference
On the southern side of the NAFTA fence
And life goes on
Without the hundreds gone
And wants those left behind to forget
But...
THIS IS A LUXURY THEY CANNOT AFFORD!
Like a shiny new Chrysler
With a pretty dashboard
And air coolant
And tinted, automatic windows
To condition the masses and obstruct their view
While the charred up bones of babies
Settle in the Juárez sands
The blood of hundreds of ladies
Stains their privileged hands
As the charred up bones of babies
Settle in the Juárez sands
The blood of hundreds of ladies
Has stained our privileged hands
As the charred up bones of babies
Settle in the Juárez sands
The blood of hundreds of ladies
Has stained my privileged hands
--Stephany Hazelrigg © 10/18/2002