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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=395399" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Mission Tire Factory, 1969</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">All through lunch Peter pinched at his crotch,<br>And Jes&uacute;s talked about his tattoos,<br>And I let the flies crawl my arm, undisturbed,<br>Thinking it was wrong, a buck sixty five,<br>The wash of rubber in our lungs,<br>The oven we would enter, squinting<br>---because earlier in the day Manny fell<br>From his machine, and when we carried him<br>To the workshed (blood from <br>Under his shirt, in his pants)<br>All he could manage, in an ignorance<br>Outdone only by pain, was to take three dollars<br>From his wallet, and say:<br>&quot;Buy some sandwiches.You guys saved my life.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Gary+Soto">Gary Soto</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=395399" data-title="Mission Tire Factory, 1969 de Gary Soto" data-description="All through lunch Peter pinched at his crotch,
And Jes&uacute;s talked about his tattoos,
And I let the flies crawl my arm, undisturbed,
Thinking it was wrong, a buck sixty five,
The wash of rubber in our lungs,
The oven we would enter, squinting
..."></div>
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