Locomotion Read Free Page A

Marcus says.
    Â 

Lamont whispers He should be sorry he’s so country
Eric says Look at his country clothes
New boy knows
they’re whispering about him,
puts one foot behind his leg
like he wants to crawl right inside himself.
He’s wearing high-water pants, light blue socks,
a white shirt
buttoned all the way up
    tight around his neck
Check
Eric says
Check out his country hat
New boy’s holding the hat in his hands
Granddaddy hat in his hands the kind
with the black band going around gray felt
New boy looking like he wish he could
just melt right on outa the room.

DECEMBER 9 TH
    I wake up with my stomach all bunched, throw up
two times. Miss Edna gives me three Tums,
the spearmint ones
but the stomach pains don’t go away and I don’t want
breakfast.
Not cereal. Not oatmeal. Not even pancakes.
Miss Edna frowns, presses her hand to my forehead,
fixes
me a bed on the couch.
It’s December ninth, she says.
I don’t look at her, just go back into the bathroom
Nothing but bitter stuff comes up. And tears.
    Â 
    I hear Miss Edna calling her job saying she won’t
be coming in. I hear her say Dear Lord, remember me.
I hear her putting water on to boil
and smell the ginger she’s chopping up to make me
some tea.
    Â 
    It’s been four years, Miss Edna says to the Lord
How long will he carry this burden?
    Â 
    I see my old house on President Street
the window frames black from fire. Glass everywhere.
I hear people screaming and crying.
I see the firemen wearing oxygen masks and shaking
their heads.
    It’s cold out. There’s water everywhere.
And two of Lili’s dolls—burnt and wet on the ground.
I hear Lili screaming for Mama
or maybe it’s me.
    Â 
    There’s relatives down south who don’t have room
for us. There’s church people who take us for a while
then pass
us on to more church people until there ain’t no more
church people
just group homes where people come sometimes to
bring us food and
toys and read us books they wrote. Then go on home
to their own families.
There used to be four of us
Mama, Daddy, Lili and me. At night we went to sleep.
In the morning we woke up and ate breakfast.
That was four years ago.
    Â 
    I lean my head over the toilet bowl
and more of the bitter stuff comes.

LIST POEM
    Blue kicks—Pumas
Blue-and-white Mets shirt
Mets hat
A watch my daddy gave me
Black pants but not dressy—they got side pockets
Ten cornrows with zigzag parts like Sprewell’s
A gold chain with a cross on it from Mama—under
my shirt
White socks clean
One white undershirt clean
White underwear clean
A dollar seventy-five left pocket
Two black pens
A little notebook right pocket
All my teeth inside my mouth
One little bit crooked front one
Brown eyes
A little mole by my lip
Lotion on so I don’t look ashy
Three keys to Miss Edna’s house back pocket
Some words I wanted to remember
written on my right hand
Leftie
Lonnie

LATE SATURDAY AFTERNOON IN HALSEY STREET PAR K
    Shoot hoops with me, Dog
Eric says. Throws me the ball.
Where you been all day?

PIGEON
    People all the time talking about how much they hate pigeons ’cause pigeons fly by and crap on their heads and then somebody always says That’s good luck! That’s good luck! so you don’t feel all stupid going through your pockets tryna find a tissue to wipe it off and you never find one ’cause you don’t be carrying tissues like an old lady so you gotta walk up to some old lady with that pigeon crap on your head and ask her for a tissue and she just goes Don’t worry, that’s good luck like everybody else and it makes you hate those sky roaches ’cause they’re everywhere in the city so you better duck if they fly over your head or else
    Â 
    But
    Â 
    This guy Todd that lives next door to Miss Edna’s building got a pigeon coop on his roof and sometimes I go up there and watch Todd waving this huge white sheet till