Ivory's dust

We eat the dust of the bourgeoisie
When it was just dirt, it was for us-
for our lungs our teeth,
our children's feet
hair and eyes.
But now the ivory towers reach to the skies,
to the place where ivory women will lay
half nude bodies catching the rays
of sun that no longer reach
the street below

So we will live in the ivory's shade
that surrounds their castles
that keeps them safe,
until they build moats to keep away
the very likes of us
Can they see us beneath, out on the street?
Do they know we are made of their tower's dust?