Kira

A mess in the kitchen with the dogs should be the title of my new piece. Of broken promises and forgotten checks. Of slaving for weeks and then denying you promised me anything, denying you could have given more. We were lost in the moment. …. in the home=made gin in clear casks along walls, fruit floating along the top of the clear and forbidden liquid. The wedding party that never arrived. Jim built a fire pit and we gathered around. For warmth, stupid conversation and ways to adjust to the ever changing threat to our meager existence. Where they begin building bizarre inner city planned communities of condominiums and homes side by side like brick pile ons. With their windows open they fake as if they've been there, they can relate to the suffering, the reggae love songs, the temple songs, the songs of death and war and separation – songs of isolation. They deny their existence while their kids play ball in the streets, make fun of other girls, climb into inflatable balls to roll around in the man made park with a man made pond and spouting spring. The taco truck park expanded.

MLK used to be for the underprivileged, for the black americans, and those separated from the whole of white society. It's where my ex and I rented our first house for less than 800 dollars. And I was working at the HEB down the street. My gin and tonics from the Lounge, you know, the Aristocrat Lounge where I drank gin and smoked Marlboro reds until that one day, the day I was sick to my stomach and knew, knew that something was amiss, not right in my body. So I crawled into bed for days, came out fighting, telling my ex that he needed to die and crying over the goddamn entity I could feel growing inside my womb. I could not remove her, knew she was special, was to be born on a high holy day. The first day of Rosh Hashanah. My ever loving egg grown to fetus grown to exploding from my womb in a mess of after birth. And I cried again. For all of us; for those of us born and forced to live in this beautiful reality. For me and my mother who cannot stand me. For you who needs scholarships to graduate from the most prestigious of schools.

And I curse those around me; need you to keep me sane. Need you more than breath. My god child; my first born. Please don't forget me; I'd die for you.