Poor Is by Ivy

I floated through the 60’s with flowers in my hair
my eyebrows heavy
my tummy hungry
mom worked 2 jobs 
poor but proud
food came with the Puerto Rican’s 
red beans and yellow rice
chicken fricassee or fried eggs 
plates were divided in order of size 
wine was drunk by the jugs
juice came by adding water 
cigarettes bought by the carton 
see, I was raised in the city
an integrated city
at least where I hung 
all shades played together 
we amused ourselves with dolls 
everyone had a place to live
rent control or the projects
no matter what their checks said
we’d run through the sprinkles or the fire hydrants
we climbed trees with the squirrels in the park
slid down the rocks on our butts 
spend hours on the swings
singing every song we knew
bouncing each other off the seesaws
pushing each other off the slides
we’d laugh
no crying
I cry now
now poor is a dirty word
homeless with no job in sight
hell, there ain’t even no more middle class
food comes from stealing
can’t even pick at neighbors garbage 
without getting arrested
can’t even drink wine from paper bags no more
some buy cigarettes by the singles 
where we bought joints
fireman hand out dolls but not Barbie
fucking correct bullshit
hell, it’s all a bunch of bullshit
rent is for the rich
rivers full of infections
trees dwindling away
songs scream of violence, curses, hopelessness
we had Motown, romance and love
guns are the throw down
hell we used spray cans to spread our words
now there’re cops on campuses 
I’m frisked at the movies
at the movies
I saw a metal detector at my elementary school
what the fuck
we used our fists
we hated
but now the hate has risen to the top
comes up on us like trash on the shore 
and it smells like being poor