Getting By
In my apartment
the gas stove
is a bitch to light
and I often
sound like a bitch
when I’m lighting it –
and the refrigerator
couldn’t keep
a dictator’s heart chilled
while the sink
is as rusty as my singing voice –
the bed is my own
so I am the lumpy sheets
and the too thin blanket
but not the carpet,
not the cigarette burns
in the fake Persian weave –
the landlady
has the hyena’s sympathies
for a dead antelope,
and her expression
after any broached subject
is that of parent
looking down on
an ingrate daughter –
like all of her kind,
she figures she’s doing me
an America-sized favor
just renting to my kind –
she could kick me out,
she could raise the rent –
I make enough
to afford this place
but to complain
is more expensive.
Juanita Rey is a Dominican poet who has been in this country for five years. Her work has been published in Pennsylvania English, Opiate Journal, Petrichor Magazine and Porter Gulch Review.
Previous: Maryfrances Wagner • Issue 18 • Next: Rebecca Macijeski
The Mantle 