Thursday, December 20, 2012

Poppy


Poppy:  Where I grew up, we didn’t have school, cept when the plice came.  Then they’d take me and matty and lilly and put us in a car and we always asked to turn on the lights and matty wanted the siren too, but the pliceman wouldn’t do that.  Only the lights.

We drove fast, and then he walked us into the offise and I had to go with ms. Claire and matty with mr. cow which isn’t his real name, but he was always chewing cud, it looked like.  Lilly and I wanted to stay tagether, but we never could cause she had to go one with the plice to her school, the hi school.

Ms. Claire gave me breakfast from the cafeteria, and I liked Ms. Claire, and she showed me numbers and words and taught me to tell time.

Matty always ended up in the offise with a black eye or a bloody nose, and then we’d walk home, we’d walk along the panhandle, past the bums who knew our daddy, past the stench, into the projects where I saw a man get shot right in front of me one day when I was out on the scooter my daddy took from some rich person’s garbage and gave to me.

I don’t ride my scooter anymore.  I stay inside.   Lilly comes home, and she makes us some Campbell’s soup and I’m still hungry, but oh well, this is it.  I only hope the rats don’t come when I’m tryin to sleep, like they did once.