Hey you digger
making your way through an ocean
of rock exploded, exploited.
You built the canal. Barely
got a statue to show for it.
Now it grows wider, wider still
pushing boats the size of cities
In front of a wall
of tears I stand inside of you
dry. My father did this
by hand. His sweat his blood
his liquid labor filled the path
between the seas
I know your history
I am your history
and you will never be wide enough
for all the stories to flow through.