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New Words

9 Apr

You just don’t even see

You don’t even hear
How you not gonna see
me humpin a teddy bear
with my milk teeth
but you turn around
and walk out
Don’t even flinch and see you way out
What I gotta do to make you see?
But why I try?
Why I care?
for a woman who
don’t bother tryin’
don’t bother blockin’
what my future really be?
15 years flash forward
Baby on each hip
Who you think I learned from?
who you think I try to escape from?
Love
Love
Didn’t even know what that was
I thought college…College…College
Education?
No
It was my last line
Working at the office
library
Mervyn’s 11 pm – 3 am
Practically hoeing
on the metro
for cents on the dollar
tryin’ to be honest
trying to pay u bills
White man tender couldn’t see
No loan for you
keep workin’
keep hopin’
Thanks LMU
I’m lookin’ at you
But what you see?
what you hear?
Nothin
Nothin
Nothin
That’s all you remember
Nothin’ to do wit you
My mama
the one who should be caring
the one supposed to love me
Love at first sight
Or was it Hate At First Sight?
couldn’t get that hanger hook on right?
Boyle Heights walls be translucent
Paper thin
paper white
You wish
But let me know somethin’
if White ruled your world
why you sleep with that creep in me?
I thought I was garbage
Why you think I try those pills
and not one
but two and three
and more
was not enough?
Lying in that bed
probed
pumped
stripped
And all you and he could ask
What They Gonna Think?
Hell hole you had me livin in
Hell hole you seemed so content with
But I know now
I know different now
That hate you spilled
is me
Sad for you
but I love me
I could keep going
but only a lifetime can be told
and I’ve known
one or three

American Dream

7 Feb

I want to climb big mountains

with my brown bare feet gripping the dry earth

skimming,

propelling forward at lightspeed.

But I live surrounded by hills that end in city dumps.

I want to consume large quantities of

knowledge

so I read and read and read

but I don’t know if I’m reading the right thing when I’m stuck in my

ghetto library.

I walk aisle by aisle, reading methodically every book

in every library my two dusty feet can take me to.

But I’m not sure if I’m walking in the right direction,

am I a fish swimming round and round in a fishbowl

confusing it for a the great big ocean?

I want to roar

primitive,

like an animal

who don’t give a fuck,

but I open my mouth and it chokes on all of the hands pressing against me.

I want to feel, I want to dance, I want to be beautiful,

but my neighbors are watching,

the nuns say it’s indecent,

the book,

which my parents have never read,

must surely have a rule against it.

I want to strut,

like the Big Bad Bitch I am,

look down on the dirty, cracked concrete that the city never fixes,

but a 40 year old Veterano throws a penny inside my shirt,

pulling me down to the same gritty, grimy, tired, hood that we both live in.

I want to be a Queen and Rule

but, but,

who is rooting for me?

I want to be a King

but who will by my subjects?

I want to stomp and devour,

I want to scream.

But who is listening?

I want to be written about in books,

not, I think for vanity,

but to be read about

by girls like me.

I want to inspire.

I want to experience.

I want to make it count.

I want to help a people, all people

but those people don’t want to help me.

I want to take

I want to give

I want to make you remember

I want to make you see

I want to

I want to

I want to achieve the American Dream

but so many don’t see me as American.

I want to

I want to

I will.

 

Howling to Emptiness

4 Sep

Aoooooooohhhhhhhhh!!!!!!

I’m howling.

But no one seems to hear.

I’m hurting, but I don’t seem to feel.

Madness.

Self-serving, legitimate action, Stupidity, willful ignorance – who can tell the difference anymore.

When I lashed out in pain at those who had voted for Trump I received admonishments from people who defended their reasoning, defended themselves from being labeled racists, defended themselves as different. They were just ready for a different administration they said. And with reticence I tried to listen, I tried to empathize, I tried to understand.

Only to realize that I was listening to no one.

Because they have nothing to say.

There is no one there.

There are only echos that ricochet off well-meaning deaf walls that were constructed long ago.  And those walls will remain standing long after the truth comes raining down. A glaringly obvious acid rain that will be hard to ignore. That rain has come and gone and those echoes remain. I am not racist. Not everyone who voted for Trump is a racist.

That may be true to a certain extent because can a hollow being with no substance truly be anything but an echo?

Ricocheting hate.

Ricocheting pain.

Ricocheting ignorance.

Aooooooooohhhhhhhhh!

I’m howling.

And you hear.

But you won’t listen.

 

Monopoly

19 Feb

Sadly, I don’t have a monopoly on pain.

Even when it expands to the point that I feel it,

drip, drip

from my pores,

no more room.

I try to contain it.

I swallow harder, its roughness scraping my throat – like sharp elbows refusing to relax as I push it down,

to where it belongs – unseen.

It marinades in my intestines.

It simmers when I read

about Trump, ICE, Syria, Racism, home, parents, who I was.

It bubbles, when I see Facebook growing, and

growing,

and growing,

and

Doing Nothing.

Falling in line with the script to refresh,

to like, to post,

scrolling…

scrolling…

Looking for something new.

Things. Ads. I want them.

Empty.

But clean.

I want, I want, I want – to…

Do something.

Teach me how to Do Something –

Change Something,

Be Something –

or Someone

that…

That what?

Holds a monopoly on Sadness?

Let me expand.

Let the sadness dissipate onto me,

filling every crevice and hidden space,

Let me absorb.

Let me gorge.

Swallow hard.

Shove it down,

like an overflowing trashcan.

Let me stomp it with my foot to shove it in,

make it fit.

Crumple it up until it’s light.

 

Help me make it light.

So I may see

a better tomorrow.

So I may see your kindness.

Be kind. Untangle yourself from:

selfishness; and

laziness; and

emotional lack of intelligence.

Be with me, one with me.

See that I suffer as much as you do.

And if you suffer as much as I do…

I understand.

But.

Most of You Don’t.

Most of you have so very many

EXCUSES.

And your vote made me realize that

pain is subjective, and

Sadly, I don’t have a monopoly on pain.

 

 

 

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