I came to America for work.
I sell frozen lemonade at Myrtle Beach
To pay for exchange program.
Selling to the sunbathers
I hate them
I know little English
But I know how to say I hate
First the honeymooners:
They share their frozen lemonade
Ask for two straws
They do, they giggle and how do you say? Snicker.
He tips big so she'll think he's big
If she doesn't think he's big, she'll never tell him.
I hate. I will hate.
Second the families:
Kids scrambling hear my bell from miles away.
Parent gives money to kids.
I tell them there's no summer in Ukraine.
They don't tip unless she makes them.
I hate. I will have been hating.
Finally, the retired sages:
Some hand in hand when they barely can walk. Forty, Fifty
years together.
They buy only if I'm on the way.
Salt water heals their joints
They smile. They tip if they can.
Sometimes ask about Ukraine and if someone is waiting for me
over there.
Later, I cry.
These are the ones I hate most of all.
