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.