Friday, May 20, 2011

No Problems

 There is a dog barking,
over on Carvington Hill.
You know, the perfect neighborhood 
where every person is problem free?
It’s booming but harmless barks echo over
the head of a little girl 
who is crying in the corner
as all of her possessions are carted off 
and her family is forced out of their home.
No problems.

The truck containing her precious toys
drives past a high school
where the seniors
are saying their last tear soaked goodbyes
and giggling about those guys 
that they’re totes gonna marry next year.
Yet, just a hallway away, 
that dark haired girl
who always gets good grades
is busy worrying about 
how she will ever pay to get into college.
No problems

Meanwhile, across the street
in the middle school, 
the girl’s sister and her friends
are bragging about their sex lives
and gossiping over who’s pregnant
with who’s kid
while a guy cries silently in the bathroom,
worrying about how he’s going to pay 
for a child when he’s only in seventh grade.
No problems.

In a stall, 13.84 miles away from the boy,
is a married woman screaming for help
as her high school sweetheart
beats her for not making dinner on time.
No problems.

And as a little child, clutching her mothers hand,
 says her last goodbyes, 
she sees her dark haired neighbor, Alicia,
 arriving home. 
“Bye Miss Alicia” she waves, sadly.
“Oh, dear Kaitlin, it will be ok.” 
Alicia bounds over to hug her.
The moment Alicia’s arms wrap around
the sobbing child, 
a young boy wipes his tears away 
and walks out of the bathroom to his bus.
“Good luck being a father, Dan!”
a teasing voice calls from the faceless crowd. 

Out his bus window, 
Dan sees his little brother’s best friend 
embracing the sister of his pregnant girlfriend. 
Another tear sprints down his cheek 
but he quickly wipes it away.
A few houses down 
Mrs. Manson runs sporadically 
out her front door
followed closely by Mr. Manson 
who is wielding a leather belt.

His bus turns the corner 
and pulls up to the lovely house
on Carvington Hill.
No problems.

1 comment:

  1. This made me shiver, no kidding.

    I love this style of narrative poetry!

    All of it was amazing, but this was the most touching line, I think:
    "while a guy cries silently in the bathroom,
    worrying about how he’s going to pay
    for a child when he’s only in seventh grade."

    So sad! Carvington Hill has a LOT of problems, apparently...