Prison of Poverty
Rachel McKenzie
I climb the overgrown bushes
step over the fallen concrete stairs
and cross the dusty porch to try my key
A furnished apartment complete with
sagging shutters, the television
already on
There’s a soggy carpet in the bedroom
a huge bed with dirty sheets
There’s a tree growing out of the crack
in the living room floor
Out the window my neighbors have crossed
the dry field, smoking joints
safe now, here among the ruins
I try to hide but they see me and wave
I force a smile, and pull down
the shade
I love it here in my prison of poverty
Rachel McKenzie
I climb the overgrown bushes
step over the fallen concrete stairs
and cross the dusty porch to try my key
A furnished apartment complete with
sagging shutters, the television
already on
There’s a soggy carpet in the bedroom
a huge bed with dirty sheets
There’s a tree growing out of the crack
in the living room floor
Out the window my neighbors have crossed
the dry field, smoking joints
safe now, here among the ruins
I try to hide but they see me and wave
I force a smile, and pull down
the shade
I love it here in my prison of poverty