Memos from the Middle

Smack-Dab in the Middle of Living

Archive for the tag “crime”

The Walk

The last time I saw her,
she walked in syncopated rhythm
in a skirt too short to move.

The cowboys, throwing dice in the cut,

watched

in

stac-

ca-

to

as her heels
click, click, clicked
passed  the halted game.

Aunties and grandmas on porches:
“Look at that over there,”
while their husbands
and “friends” wiped wet brows
on dingy handkerchiefs,
eyes screaming
Ooo-wee!

Each step elicited
envy,
disgust,
shame,
and lust,
and she walked on,
seemingly oblivious
to the suspended living
she left in her wake.

I watched her,
as did everyone else,
disappear up the block
in the summer sun.

My mama says,
“She was lost long
before she was missing.”

Her mama says,
“How come nobody
saw what happened
to my baby?”

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