Red dirt, bright sun.
Go borrow George Nakasone’s shoes and his father’s necktie,
Gramma says.
So hot today.
Wait, I going pack you one bento lunch,
Gramma says.
I like more fried spam on top da rice.
Not too much more, gotta save some for Pakalana’s school lunch,
Gramma says.
Hot sun, tight shoes, they were the wrong size,
Tight necktie.
No forget to say thank you to everybody you see in da boss's house,
Gramma says.
Long walk to da boss's house,
Red dust, windy,
Looong walk up da hill.
Still climbing,climbing around da wide bend,
Big car coming up behind me,
Fast, real fast!
Wen almost ku’i me!
Boss's daughter,
Back from college,
Shiny white teeth, red lips, laughing, laughing at me.
Shiny red nails on the steering wheel,
Strangling me, my ‘ohana, da ‘aina.
Red dirt, red dust.
Picking myself up from the fall.
My white high school band shirt, not white anymore.
Bruddah George Nakasone’s shoes,
Not shiny black anymore.
Red dirt, red dust, all over da place.
No place to clean up,
Hands, fingernails,
Covered with red dirt from the fall.
She made me fall, and she wen laugh.
I like turn around and go home.
Dey going pay you peanuts,
Bruddah George says.
You going start wit da opala kine job nobody else like,
Bruddah George says.
But you know what dey going tell you,
Bruddah George says.
You can have aaaall da pineapples you like!
Bruddah George says.

Talk story

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