Momma Welfare Roll

Her arms semaphore fat triangles,
Pudgy hands bunched on layered hips
Where bones idle under years of fatback
And lima beans.
Her jowls shiver in accusation
Of crimes clichéd by
Repetition. Her children, strangers
To childhood's toys, play
Best the games of darkened doorways,
Rooftop tag, and know the slick feel of
Other people's property.

Too fat to whore,
Too mad to work,
Searches her dreams for the
Lucky sign and walks bare-handed
Into a den of bureaucrats for
Her portion.
'They don't give me welfare.
I take it.'

by Maya Angelou

Comments (5)

I love it and can't wait to read more. -shannon
I know this feeling too well my friend..10
great and lovely, I liked reading it. thank you for sharing.
Oh, those memories forever churning us up. One can only go forward never back. Lovely write David. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX
another great write! ! ..