Wed, 30 September 2009
On my block six girls are pregnant, their bellies almost bigger than they are so they can't see the ground when they walk The way they walk is as if the wind is blowing them back four girls have babies you can hear squalling day and night and the girl-moms too yelling, "Shut up! I can't stand it!" Slap slap but the squalling goes on. Over at the clinic some people march with signs stepping on cracks with their big flat shoes their shadows growing long over the plants with wilted leaves. And up on the hill the boys dress hot, practicing moves while their music fills the street with a scorching beat. Uptown cars roll with their windows up and tinted dark and no one comes out to play. (c)2007 Binnings ALL RIGHTS RESERVED |