Homeless Urban Dreams

Reenah L. Golden

 

I live
for illiterate orphaned eight year olds
dangling in the space between the sky
and the clouds,
hoping their little bare feet
will never touch the ground,
wishing that birds
could accommodate passengers.
 
I live
for homeless mothers with
permanent addresses sheltered from the elements
but not their malaise,
for mindless fathers without homes
and wanderers with relations unknown.
 
I live for
innercity ghettos and rural island village,
where resident outlaws dance indentations
in pavement and mud,
reinventing music from bones and skulls,
residing only in their own nightmares,
self sabotaged by their own daydreams.
 
We live hard and fast,
wildly swerving through reckless political banter
and legislation
dodging yellow tape and deep potholes
defacing the abnormally large
red and white signs –
only found in the hood
NO LOITERING
NO DRUGS
NO ASSISTANCE
NO DREAMS
NO ART
NO INVENTIONS
NO JOBS
NO EXCEPTIONS
So now we post up defiantly in suburban plazas
pockets full of plastic baggies
filled with ibuprofen, Excedrin Complete,
Rolaids and Tums and Midol
drinking Nyquil from crumpled brown paper bags.
RELIEF FOR SALE,
over-priced, over-rated, over-used
R-E-L-E-I-F RELEIF from
headaches, backaches, stomachaches,
menstrual cramps, sleepless nights,
poor diet and self abuse. I live
for medication, denial, indifference,
negligence, self indulgence.
I live pain free in my bliss filled ignorance
superimposing my natural black-girl face
and healthy full figure
over skinny ass vogue models and
painted celebrity covergirls.
If only my teeth were whiter,
my lips were thinner
my hips were smaller,
my thighs were smoother,
my hair was straighter,
my skin were lighter.
If only my father or husband were somebody significant
like a Sibley, Rodham or Rockefeller.
If only my grandfather’s father
had owned something
land, livestock, people.
I live for a forgotten past
I live for a clearly defined me,
a future not yet written,
and I write
for a life forgotten
by time.
 
 
© Copyright Reenah L. Golden. 2006


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