A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature
It can be a kid as white as you:
A kid with an old face.
It can be hope:
Hope the sheriff doesn’t come
To serve the eviction papers
When you happen to be home;
That you don’t have to put anything back
At the checkout counter.
It can be waiting
And telling your children to wait
Wait their whole childhoods away.
It’s knowing they blame you.
If there isn’t a better way.
It’s trying not to envy
Almost everyone you see.
It’s not getting enough
And getting mad.
Being poor is bones and hearts
And marrow and gray street dirt.
And if there is a God;
If there is a God anywhere
We haven’t heard the half of it.
Copyright 2019 Elizabeth Romero