An Ode to Living in the Ghetto
Neighbors come and go--
Kent was shot, case of mistaken identity
The Jacksons were evicted
Don't know and don't care if Jose
is an illegal immigrant.
I like the music he plays on holidays
Heavy mariachi, exulted gritos
Simmer in the sweaty air
The most savory notes of tannins
The sideways glances on peoples' faces
When I say I live in the hood
You?
Why, You don't look "the type"
But listen to this hype:
Sure--I've fed the vagrant or two
Who've come knockin' on my door
Yet, they know the only constant
is change
They know life--
it hangs in the balance
Especially when gunshots
rip roar
Just blocks away, down Pearl
Cats spit and linger on the front porch
The jowls beg and beg,
Until they are fed
or on the side of the road dead
They too remind me
We
Are
All
Tryin
To
Quell
Hunger
Trying to find some shelter
From the summer thunderstorm
And keep alive
And keep warm
And so, I say when you step
Out your front door
Are you reminded on the daily
What you're livin' for?
Well, I think we are
here in the dirty air
I for one know what for
I see how the passersby flex
Used to wonder and I don't any more
If you don't look like prey
Onlookers will let you go on your merry way
Kent, The Jacksons, the Mexicans across the street
Are a picture of our humanity,
Even in indignity
Who've loved, suffered and lost
Just like me.