Monday, September 14, 2009

Two Poems About The Inner City

I spent two years on a volunteer project in South Central Los Angeles. The intent was to somehow have an impact on the violence in impoverished communities. It is evident from the headline news that violence is still rampant. These two poems come from conversations with young people who lived in those communities.

South Central

Graffiti on the walls mark the territory
the smell of urine emanates from the alleyways

eyes peer through basement windows
fear, like a curtain, shrouds those who live there

Pop! Pop! Pop! Who is it this time,
a gangland enemy, his brother, a child?

Doors don’t open to inspect the violence
the car screeches away unseen

a ghost drifts through the ethers with no one attending
the body left to be discovered in the morning.















Mama Said, “No!”

Mama said, “No!”
and I did it anyway.

I climbed out the window into the street
where a stranger offered me a ride
to the ghetto of Long Beach.
He bought me a burrito and coke
from the local taco stand.

He said I could stay
until I figured out what to do.

I never found out what that night held
because as I approached his apartment
there was mama, sitting in the car
along the curbside.

How could she find me?
We were miles from home.

Mama was mad and didn’t let me stay.
So I went back and the stranger ran away,
cause mama said, “No!”
and she came out to get me.

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