Swollen (Chapter Two)
Poem By Eric Cockrell
she drove across town,
past the empty warehouses,
to a quiet neighborhood down
on the poor side.
she helped him into the house,
past the foreclosure notice
on the door. there were no
lights, and it was cold.
in the little room at the back
of the house she lit a candle.
she helped him to a chair.
he heard a rustling in the corner.
she walked over and picked the baby
up and held him close.
he could see the blood crusting
on her lips in the half light,
the bruises under her eyes.
'mister, i have to feed the baby,
i dont have anything to offer you...'
they made small talk as she fed the
baby. she'd lost her job, and they'd
been evicted from her apartment. she
had no family, and nowhere to go for help.
the baby's daddy was in prison.
she was an ex-addict. had been straight
since before she was pregnant. lately,
she'd turned a couple tricks for food money.
she hoped no one knew they were staying here.
but it was just a matter of time...