Tuesday, April 28, 2015

For you

Yesterday I saw
A brown, leathered, woman
Stress dug craters a’top her brow

Her shoulders
Slumped towards the
Ground

A floor streaken
With miniscule molecules
Of shit dragged through

The subway car
Her child
Shrieked like a banshee

His baby teeth
And vocal chords
Nails upon a chalkboard

He clawed her face
And yanked her shirt down
To expose

A t-shirt bra
Absent of lace
Bought in one of those ghetto bodegas

For you to be that woman,

That is my curse

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