Tattered Wings
by paloma
It started when
mama's boyfriend
from Smokey
Corners, Buzz,
hit her Saturday
night.
Mama came home three
days later.
The caring had been
cut
out of her eyes,
black spaces where
her teeth had been,
looking like a
jack-o-lantern
in the middle of
July.
It ended when she let
Buzz stay.
So I went.
Took the bus as far
as my
babysitting
money, from summer,
could take me.
Finding a job wasn't
easy.
Hard as catching
fireflies
behind the trailer.
I met JoJo at the
park,
told me I was pretty,
and would I like to
make some money.
I lay on my back ,
reciting, outloud ,
the names of every state ,
their capitals,
to keep from hearing
myself cry.
And the men didn't
even hear.
I look a hell of a
lot older than I am.
These two guys, cops,
helped me get straight.
I do what I can to
help them out on the streets.
I think I'm in love
with one of them.
They call me Sweet
Alice,
I go soft when they
say that.
They say I'm an
angel.
An angel with
tattered wings.