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I lived in the middle of a dead end block
with two enormous random pine trees planted in my lawn
Gi...
Gillani.
Homes?
For sale.
My house!
No! No… No.
Gillani used one of those chains that people use to tie their bikes to poles
to anchor the sign to the random pine tree in the front of my house
He posted a for sale sign
like they’re not kicking us out
my family as stubborn as the bricks used to build this home
digging our nails into the wallpaper that’s been posted since we moved here
When you hire an agent at Gillani Homes to sell your house
or buy your dream home,
you will find the whole office will be working for you as a team.
BUT WHO IS WORKING FOR MY FAMILY?
Rebecca, a burning pan of roti
my little sister, grew up in this house
too hot to hold
a burning pan of roti has fallen in this house
this burning pan of roti is still learning to pick herself up
Her body as heavy as a all the soil in my front lawn after it rains
Rebecca’s not too good at making friends
they play dodge ball with her body
like throwing walnuts into a brownie
Rebecca’s not too good at math
Rebecca’s not too good at love
when all else fails
all she has is this house to call home
a smoke detector to remind her when her is starting to burn
Dear mom,
as close as our house is to the sky
you told me God would never leave us or forsake us
no place loves me like home
My two younger brothers graduate from junior high school this June
this is their first time in America
they know nothing of eviction
that is a term of the law
law knows nothing of compassion, love or family
If there aint no place like home
Who wil tell Rebecca that she is starting to burn?
My niece is only two
feet smaller my hands
voice projecting out of her tiny vanilla wafer body
reciting words in Spanish she learned from Dora
ayuda! Ayuda!
Their aint no smoke detectors in the streets
Who will tell Rebecca she is starting to catch flames?
My mother
The weary clothes line in my back yard
Hanging to close to the ground
Emptied her pension into this house
Because she was scammed
My mother lost her pension to this house
Behind the front door
is protection oil to keep the bad spirits away
that door
and the tack pounding sound it leaves
belongs to me
On my front porch is a blood stain the size of my ear
from the first time i went rolling blading
tripped, fell over one of the earthquake wrinkles in my steps
that step
and all the stain from my blood
belongs to me
He posted the sign a few days after Christmas
the same day my sister and i got into a side impact car accident
I can see the truck
It isn’t slowing down
It’s headlights breaks my window
I go to grab Rebecca’s hand
but it’s all ash now
I can see my heart in-between my feet
I’m not sure if I’m alive or not…
If home is where the heart is
where do all our hearts go now?