Momma Welfare Roll

Momma Welfare Roll

por Maya Angelou

Her arms semaphore fat triangles,
Pudgy hands bunched on layered hips
Where bones idle under years of fatback
And lima beans.
Her jowls shiver in accusation
Of crimes clichéd by
Repetition. Her children, strangers
To childhood's toys, play
Best the games of darkened doorways,
Rooftop tag, and know the slick feel of
Other people's property.

Too fat to whore,
Too mad to work,
Searches her dreams for the
Lucky sign and walks bare-handed
Into a den of bereaucrats for
Her portion.
'They don't give me welfare.
I take it.'

comments powered by Disqus



Otros poemas de Maya Angelou (leer al azar)

When love is a shimmering curtain
Before a door of chance
That leads to a world in question

We die,
Welcoming Bluebeards to our darkening closets,
Stranglers to our outstretched necks,

Lying, thinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home

They went home and told their wives,
that never once in all their lives,
had they known a girl like me,

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt

In what other lives or lands
Have I known your lips

The highway is full of big cars
going nowhere fast
And folks is smoking anything that'll burn

You drink a bitter draught.
I sip the tears your eyes fight to hold
A cup of lees, of henbane steeped in chaff.

Curtains forcing their will
against the wind,
children sleep,

When you come to me, unbidden,
Beckoning me
To long-ago rooms,

Te gusta Poeticous en Facebook?