Melodies flood the air,
mountains sway, snow dances,
1,000 wings flutter to rhythms released to clouds,
From the room above her,
a pleasant aroma hangs from the ceiling,
awakens words upon her flesh,
between weary and angry,
numb hands pray.
This poem is about Maria, a woman working 16hr shifts, dealing with a rising cost to live and stagnate wages.
I spoke with her and I asked her, “how do you do it, she said, I pray that I don’t feel my life.” Those words affected me and set the tone for this poem.
That moment when you thinks a 4yr old has the answer.
He loves superheroes, and when he’s older that’s what he wants to be.
I saw him sitting there on the step, and I asked him, “what are you thinking about? You look like you’re in deep thought.”
He said to me, “I am in deep thought. I think the problem is, superman has no where to change his clothes, there’s no phone places(booths)left. That’s the problem, there’s no phone booths left so superman can change his clothes.”
I said to him, “maybe you’re right and simply, he said, I think that’s the problem Beth.”
For the month of July, I was voted author of the month. This an interview that followed. To anyone who reads this, thank you in advance. “Spillwords.com”