Recently, I had the blessing of four of my works being accepted into an upcoming anthology on Justice, titled, THE REVOLUTION.
Four pieces accepted:
- "Easy Money" (A short story about a woman who leans on the tenets of radical feminism to cope with the struggles of being a sex-worker)
- "Belly Up"(A poem about climate change)
- "For a Nickel" (A short story about women learning to survive in a world built for men).
- "Invisible" (A poem about two young girls struggling against a capitalistic machine, a machine that leaves many in abject poverty.)
When the book hits Print, I will share a LINK!
Invisible
It was bitter cold last night, and we were
Freaking Starving,
Dying to eat a stick-to-your bones meal. We had found
56 cents and walked to Krystal’s,
Buying one slider, settling,
Splitting it between us.
5 a.m, dog-hungry, taking a job at the
Temp Labor. Baggers at
Hobby Lobby. We are
Relieved. Last week we had been lunch ladies at some
Yuppie school, serving spoiled brats
Tacos, rice, salad, and yogurt cups
While we starved. I got in trouble for stealing a yogurt cup from the
Trash. It was already opened. I had licked the
Strawberries from the bottom.
Given blue aprons, and placed with other
Cashiers at parallel registers, we
Steal encouraging glances at each other.
Wrap, and bag, wrap and bag,
Wrap, bag, smile. Wrap, bag, and don’t
Shoot yourself.
Slaves in the spoke of capitalism’s wheel.
A week before Christmas and the store is in
Chaos.
Christmas, I thought—
I had forgot about Christmas,
And here it was; thrown all over this store like
Confetti and vomit. And the
Shift, aching hands wrapping ornament,
After ornament.
Our stomachs growling in another kind of ache. The
Gaze of our eyes casting down.
People scurrying like bees
Buying in frenzied attacks, money
Wasted on plastic stars, foam glitter balls,
Cheap angels, and tinsel,
While we ration nickels and
Dimes for off-brand bologna.
Wrapping and bagging, don’t shoot yourself, don’t
Step out of the assembly line.
Consumed products destined for landfills. The
Waste a tower of filth hidden behind
Smiles and fake Merry Christmases,
Tucking us away, like the boats of trash that float to
Poor nations. So, they can
Buy in peace. Peace be with you.
If we were known:
Low-life, trashy, scum, dirty, lazy, food-stampers, unworthy,
Beggar, junkie, lacks motivation, irresponsible—
Invisible.
But we eat tonight,
A stick-to-the ribs meal and
Smoke Newport Shorts.
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