Street Love (5 page)

What will I say to her? Hello, Mother?

Where will I put my eyes when they don’t smile?

Will I say that Melissa cries for her

In the darkness? That she calls her name

As the night creeps into the cold gray day?

What will I say to her? Hello, Mother?

The package I left at the desk—panties

The bra she wanted, tampons in a box

A card from Miss Ruby—is not enough

To bridge the distance between

Us. If sorrow were a shawl

We could share it against the cold

What will I say to her? Hello, Mother?

Will I be able to touch her, to kiss

Her cheek and tell her amusing stories?

The guards search me, tossing my confidence

Into the brown plastic bag with my keys

Reminding me that I am Black

That I am lesser.

Shuffling

Through the gates with the others

Flinching

As the doors slam behind me

I think of Damien, glad he’s not here

Letting my thoughts anchor to him

What would he think?

Wide-eyed, his mind bouncing

Madly from green-gray wall

To green-gray wall

“Hello, Mama,” I force the words out.

“How are you?”

She tries to smile, but can’t

Her mouth opens and I know she has

Practiced what to say but she can’t control

The torrent of words that gush forth

I’m fine, and you? Have you spoken to a lawyer?

What are you doing out there? What are you doing?

Don’t you care about me? I’m your mother!

Did you bring any money? Commissary

Costs money. Don’t you know that? Don’t

you know?

I can’t stand this place. Get me out of here!

She is a wolf caught in a trap,

Gnawing at the foot that holds her

She growls at me and yelps in pain

Her eyes bleed tears

And yes, she is my mother

And YES, she is my mother!

You can’t turn your back on me. Don’t you know

I spent nine months with you and…

I need a good lawyer for my appeal

Don’t you know this place is crazy, listen

To what they’re saying. Talking about home

As if they are ever going. What are…?

Head down, I admit to doing nothing.

The blizzard of her hurts falls heavily

And I am beaten. Sensing the welling tears

She stops to breathe. Her tone softens

Are you doing well in school? Having fun?

Does Melissa do her homework at night?

“There is a boy,” I say. “His name is Damien

Just the thought of him cheers me

Gives me power over the uncaring

Hardness of the hood, over the secret thoughts

That insist on having their way with me.”

Her eyes go wild

Her fingers clench

Her voice becomes a muted shriek

How can you do this? How can you leave me?

Oh, my God, you are a terrible thing!

You’re grinning with some fool while your mother

Your mother rots in this Godforsaken

Place forever and you don’t care forever and I

Hate him forever and I hate you what are you

Doing? They’re taking my life!

I want my life back. They didn’t tell me

They could take it. They could just take it!

The screaming goes on

Like nails scratching across my heart

A heavy woman complains that she

Cannot hear her brother

And she needs the news because she’s going

To be in the World soon and then a guard

Round faced, bored, lumbers over and hits

His baton on the table between us

The hour has ended and I am drained

“There are bruises in your life,” Damien said

I long for him.

On the bus headed southward

My tears somehow signal a tattooed man

To sit with me. When his hand finds my leg

I know I have found my passage to Hell

Wearily I push the hand away

And try to sleep

Melissa peers

Deeply into my eyes

Looking for clues that everything’s

All right

All right

She spoke of you

Something about homework

I told her you were doing well

She smiled

She smiled

Then read your note

And put it to her chest

Then she read it aloud again

I lie

Yo, Damien, are you okay? Your eyes

Have a distant glaze and you’ve been

Walking in a daze for days. Tell me

What’s up? What’s going down?

Is something going around that I

Need to know about?

Kevin, my main rooter

Mighty square shooter

My head is spinning

For no apparent reason

Hey, man, it’s flu season

Asian, Avian, Three Day, too

You need some serious chill out

Get the heating pad and pills out

Some hot tea and TLC

Should make the sadness flee.

And if all that

Don’t juice your feelin’

You better cop some penicillin!

No, little brother,

There’s no bacteria

In the area, it’s Love

That lifts and gifts

This mortal

Damien, excuse me if you will

Abuse me if you must

But take me into your trust

And tell me that this plan

Does include the fair Roxanne?

Roxanne, do I know her?

Do you
know
her?

If you don’t know the child

Your mother has chosen

Tell me just what has frozen

Your logic?

Maybe I’m completely wrong

Your new love is vehicular

Or something strictly testicular

Or you’ve downloaded some song That has turned your brain

To mush

Junice, Kevin, Junice

I have found her

And she has found me

Old friend, cut buddy, my splib on the rib,

Have you taken Junice to your mama’s crib?

And do you have exact words

Passed down from above

Just how do you know that you’re in love?

Yesterday a woman smiled at me

No, she smiled at my own mad smiling

As I walked and spoke to myself

Spoke and answered as if I were surprised

At what I was saying, at what I was feeling

And what I was feeling was the wonder

Of being more than me, of being more

Than mere here and now allowed

I had become a shining star, a burning nova

Exploded with love

Flying through an endlessly

Expanding universe

Away from the me that was

Toward a me that is beyond

Understanding.

Yo, you’re right, my man

I don’t understand it either

But it’s definitely heavy

Hello, Damien, yes this is Junice

I’m calling because this many-cornered

Room is pressing in on me so hard

That I feel I will be crushed. Yes, something

Happened today. I received a notice

From the Department of Health Services

Saying that for the greater good of all

Concerned they would have to assume complete—

Damien, I can’t say the words. Even

Though I have practiced them, have let their taste

Fill my mouth with their acid apathy

What can you do? I don’t know. Can you fly?

Change yourself into the wonder of all

Things? Blaze truth to the world? Can you become

A wild beast that chases demons away?

A flowing stream that carries poor meek girls

To comfort? Are these things that you can do?

Have I been crying? No, but I have screamed

Sorrow to the wind and rained misery

To the pavement beneath my window

I don’t know if that’s the same as crying

Damien, I am searching for myself

In the flickering shadows of despair

I have become invisible, there’s just

The sound of my voice echoing against

The empty streets where once I pretended

To be. I am loose in space, and falling.

And the Waiters wait for me, mouths open

Remembering the taste of the others

Miss Ruby, Leslie, mothers and daughters

I see myself on the report, sixteen-

Year-old girl without parental guidance

Or resources. I am on the menu.

What will I do? Grab the thin summer air

And hold it before my chest like a shield

Run down the busy streets, shouting havoc?

Fly with Melissa to the river’s edge

And dare the tide to carry us away?

I am like a rat, scurrying across

The rooftops, my mind scritching and scratching

In its panic, my limbs digging fiercely

Into the red brick of the tenements

I am Street and I do not go easy

I am Street and I will not flinch from pain

I am Street! My mind and my soul are Street.

But my heart, this poor timid thing that beats

Behind these small breasts, betrays its owner

Telling her fingers to call Damien

Damien, are you there? Can you become?

Damien, are you there? Can you become

The hope I need? Can you help me be

More than it is written in my future

Or past? Is there another me to find?

Hello? How are you?

I saw my mother today.

She’s all right, I guess.

She’s down. It’s to be

Expected.

Me? I’m all right.

You were thinking of me?

No, I’m not down. It’s

Just a cold. Yes, and a

Headache. I’ll wrap myself

Warmly, and think of you.

Good night, darling.

The phone is quiet in my hand

I imagine her brown cheek against

The white pillow. Her voice still echoes

In my head. I have never heard a voice

Like hers before, had never heard

The sound of a life scraped

Raw and left to shake and bleed

In the wind.

And if I have never heard that sound

That cry filtering through the storm

Where have I been? What music drowns

The cry? And yet…and yet…

As I sit in my room,

Wondering how to be heroic

Rummaging through my life

For a proper script

I am afraid. Afraid for all the

Things I should have said

Of all the words I sensed and

Refused to hear as her voice

Reached out to me.

In the ticktock

Quiet of my room, there is the

Low burrrrrr of a crumbling shield.

Junice talks of Street.

Is Street the same as Hero?

Is Hero the same as Man? Is Man

The same as Damien?

“No, I don’t mean to be hostile

Ma’am.

It’s just that I’m afraid that no matter How loudly I speak

You won’t be able to hear me

You say I can have no hand in

The decision. But look at these hands

They have scrubbed mats on the banks of the Congo

They lifted Moses from the bulrushes

These hands can crush razor blades

And catch sunbeams

They part rocks and turn back rivers

Does that make sense to you?

You say that your hands are tied

Can I beg them free?

You quote paragraphs and sentences

And laws with numbers and subsections

Will my tears erase them?

You say my family has a History

And wash your hands

As I am crucified to it

You are a woman, and I am a woman

Yes, it is relevant

You are Black and I am Black

Yes, it is relevant!

I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scream

I know it won’t help my case

Miss Davis, ma’am, all I’m asking

Is for the chance to be stronger

Than the women in my family have been

My grandmother, once fierce,

Nods in her own world while

She waits for the next one

Did you see Leslie’s eyes? Wild beyond tears,

Beyond pain, past hurting

I will tear that History apart.

All I need…

I’m sorry, but I know you’ll do well.

We’ll make every effort to keep you and your

Sister together. Sometimes things can be

Arranged but there are no promises.

The Letter of Determination

Will be handed down in twelve days

And then we will know

We will have the answers in hand

And then we can move on from there

It’s not up to me, you see

My hands are tied.

But may I give you some advice?

I see you have brought a young man

With you. Remember that your mother has no

Husband, just babies

Yes, and a History