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Dave Bonta
a mouth of judgement against me
an oven to bear
broke by the day’s work
I enter our book
of a bed
Walking papers — I have nothing more.
That and a sandwich.
I bring water to the bridge
and a cannon to judge the king.
When I walk into a room,
What do others see?
What do they think?
What do they feel?
When I open my mouth,
What do they hear?
Do they understand?
Do they care?
Leaving friends at a bar,
Words inevitably spoken about me,
Never knowing what they are,
What they truly think,
When separated from family,
My name is mentioned,
Judgments and worries,
Fears and questions,
why does she walk like that
why does she talk so loudly
why does she have ugly, yellow teeth
why does she have that fat on her tummy
why does she look at herself and say these things..
Reverend Wiley advised me not to divorce him
For the sake of the children,
And Judge Somers advised him the same.
So we stuck to the end of the path.
But two of the children thought he was right,
And two of the children thought I was right.
And the two who sided with him blamed me,
And the two who sided with me blamed him,
And they grieved for the one they sided with.
And all were torn with the guilt of judging,
And tortured in soul because they could not admire
Equally him and me.
Now every gardener knows that plants grown in cellars
Or under stones are twisted and yellow and weak.
And no mother would let her baby suck
Diseased milk from her breast.