|
by Tiny
Crazy...Crazy for feeling..
so lonely
I think it was the shiny
green plastic of the hefty
bag that held the contents
of what used to be our
apartment.....and the soft
way it felt to my fingers-
or maybe it was the thick
black boots of the
marshals- they always have
the thickest, blackest
boots.. or the clanking of
the locksmith and the
salivating of the landlord
holding our 22nd unlawful
detainer in his hands
or maybe it was the “shit”
inside the bags that used to
be memoirs, family photos,
clothing, and ...furniture
before it was thrown out of
a side window into an abyss
of sidewalk, back of car
and trashcan- divorced from
its lofty “status” of
things-now lucky to be
called, “:shit”
Crazy....crazy....for feeling...
or maybe it was the inside
of your mouth as my tongue
tried to reach for a
yes.....
.
..a yes that you would
help with my rent when we
were on the brink of
eviction,
...a yes that you would
bail me out of jail
...for serving my time
for crimes
of pover...ty
or a yes that you wouldn’t
be like my father...
who left my poor mother
and me for dead
But you wouldn’t.shouldn’t couldn’t.didn’t...
cause I had to learn my
lesson
learn that poverty caused
me to drop out of school in
the sixth grade
learn that we were
homeless,
learn that I had no access,
no privelege
and learn it good
Crazy....Crazy...for feeling.....
So when did I start to understand what was wrong...
Perhaps when you stood there
looking at me...
Sexually attracted to my
incarceration...
Perhaps when the Ca-chunk
of fresh paint from your
2000 jeep cherokee
Slammed in my face as you
said no- just NO...I’m not
helping you
EVER
Or Perhaps..it was the five
women..my cellmates, who
knew like me, the absolute
pain of never being
comfortable-
To always live behind the
bars of poverty
and its extended
family...domestic
violence,fear
substance abuse and crisis
Bars so thick they can’t
ever be overcome
or overpaid.....
Crazy...Crazy....Crazy.....For
loving you....
| 
