Pages of My Book

Miss, why should i read?
Movies are so much better.
You see everything.

But what you can’t see
is the imagination
that invents the world.

Without reading books
who’d have written your movies,
given light to life?

fast-paced agreement
from Arabic-spewing mom–
he sighs, won’t give in

not five minutes pass
toothless, frumpy, loving mom
begs me to help her

why does her girl fail?
is it because of the shots
she saw as a child?

or her tent life,
her journey across the sea?
but what can we do

but cry out to God
and ask him to help us live?

then i remember

yes–a book i read
Wait–were you in Kakuma?
Yes–for nineteen years

tears swallow my throat
harrowing Lost Boy story
chronic refugee

sitting before me
(brutal book’s truth seeping in)
hope swallows her whole

i wish i could share
the beauty behind pages
that connect us all

if i could show him
the open-eyed life of words
oh, how he could fly!

ironic night ends
with her heart-wrenching handshake
pages of my book

Halloween Hell Party

Janis Joplin hair
might as well accept it’s mine
Happy Halloween

drive to edge of earth
that’s how far money stretches
there’s never enough

space, bedrooms, hardwood
three people and all their shit
spread suburban sloth

walkability
on a scale of one to ten?
tractor crossing sign

there is no number
to measure my distaste here
size shouldn’t matter

Americans Dream
big, better phallic boasting
in the shape of homes

American Dream:
be Janis Joplin–different
don’t let it kill you

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Soul Searching

not a single soul
in this forty-person room
has guts to speak truth

sadly, nor do i
phone in hand, blog post ready
[i can’t lose her now]

you see, i’ve lost her
and the darkness in my heart?
no match on this Earth

so i won’t speak truth
i’ll sugar-coat it, smile, nod:
age brings clarity

in that clarity
drink-free, sunny fall Sunday
i die to tell all

in her card, later
she’ll see every word and cry
for all that’s lost, gained

she couldn’t find words
only pics, video, songs
everything for him

i still feel empty
she texts me later, heart burned
you’re the only one…

even her husband
didn’t know who her dad was
[i’ve known her longer]

after the speeches
seeing her, baby in arms?
the love. of my life.

she is my best friend
her loss is my loss, our loss
never hers alone

bubbles in the sky
blown from his loving, warm lips
i live her longing

not a single soul
who speaks, making him perfect
will dare speak the truth

will i dare speak it?
a shadow follows her life
dark, drinking daddy

Here to Stay

Eritrean lunch
post-war teacher offering
how blessed they make me

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youngest’s six sound bites
mad, glad, hungry, scared… favorite?
Mama’s “Für Elise”

tears backstage, waiting
for a song i can’t quite play
that’s her favorite sound?

middle school yelling
another homework battle
oldest sets standards

caught in the middle
daughter two rattles school story
steals bed time cuddles

how spicy, this meal
carried across continents
homemade, just like us

The Longest Mile

just one mile walk home
to car-shop drop-off frenzy
begin evening stress

science fair project
won’t keep quiet on my mind
leaves alleviate

no avocados?
two wheels, backpacked ride to store
guacamole dreams

oldest cycles home
begins three-shower cycle
all by six-forty

spicy tacos rest
on spicy dream-home dispute
taste still in my mouth

all ’cause he worked late
foreshadowing our future:
crap hours, low pay

sacrifice my peace
for shut-in civility?
i’d rather be poor

rich are days with him
those hours in his absence?
a chronic longing

even the girls cry
as they will with no ‘good nights’
tears don’t buy us time

the two-income trap
snagging our life with more debt
all for image, greed

just one mile walk back
where refugee students wait,
offer perspective

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The Count

two-month countdown starts
pre-holiday pay knifing
how will we survive?

just as we once did:
a chef, errand-free weekends
(stay-at-home dad’s gifts)

two sides make all coins:
heavy sacrifice, workload
frantic rat race gone

we could count pennies
or we could count our blessings
we will see what counts

Citations

poorly-worded goal
provided by school district
let’s confuse students

find main idea,
three facts, underlying themes
cite text evidence

even in haiku
i clarify what they can’t
why are they in charge?

come home to harsh truths:
charter school rules, union blues
paradox, my life

my new objective:
theme that saves main idea
minus the details

(life is a challenge
of unplugged net books, low pay;
cite love to survive)

Challenge

over basketball
we come clean with our spent day
he out shoots me; wins

meandering drives:
his through streets, mine through planning;
family meets career

girls sing their way home
in Spain, street dinners would start
here? hollow, dark paths

i’m trapped here for now
because i love kids too much
equal, theirs and mine

over drinks divulged
the story of single life
that he saved me from

penniless in months
i’ll press my lips against his
and let love beat all

better than harsh words
or baseball abandonment
why i married him

we will survive this
as hard as the year in Spain
that i so long for

Big Brother Wins

It’s time to say goodbye. I tried editing. Removing posts. I started with the word drink as my post searcher.

Twenty-eight posts. (I might mention that I have 1,058 posts, the rest of which do not contain this word, but would it matter?)

During my search, I read about the beauty of my girls on a glorious Sunday. Of parties I’d had a great time at. Of weekend joy and love. Of coworkers having a moment of happiness after work.

And, gasp, about that awful thing that almost everyone I know does after work, but I’m not allowed to do since I’m a teacher.

This is one of the most frightening novels I’ve ever read. It bothered me so much when I read it, but even more now. I feel I share this room with Winston:

For some reason the telescreen in the living-room was in an unusual position. Instead of being placed, as was normal, in the end wall, where it could command the whole room, it was in the longer wall, opposite the window. To one side of it there was a shallow alcove in which Winston was now sitting, and which, when the flats were built, had probably been intended to hold bookshelves. By sitting in the alcove, and keeping well back, Winston was able to remain outside the range of the telescreen, so far as sight went. He could be heard, of course, but so long as he stayed in his present position he could not be seen. It was partly the unusual geography of the room that had suggested to him the thing that he was now about to do. (1.1.12)

I sit here now in my living room in Cartagena, Spain. I have spent the greater part of two weeks sharpening my résumé, rewriting my cover letter, and completing online applications so that I can bring my family home.

They are counting on me. Trusting me. Just as they did a year ago when I told them we were coming here.

I cannot let this writing, soul-fed, heartbreaking, ever-too-honest writing, keep me from providing for my family.

And so, just as Winston faced his biggest fear of rats, took his sip of ever-bitter gin and ended the novel with, “I love Big Brother,” I am going to have to concede.

Big Brother wins. I am taking down my blog. And with it, so many pieces of my heart that it will never beat quite the same again.

Failing

Here I am again. Nit picking away. Is this a sign of the times, a symbol of my year in Spain, or just another hassle like everything else?

I still haven’t been paid of course. It’s been three months. Not to mention the six months of hell and paperwork and thousands of dollars spent prior to that.

I just need to vent tonight. Bruce and I have spent ten hours today combing through all three girls’ hair, and my own, and finding more lice and nits than you could ever imagine. Add that to the laundry that we’re barely catching up on due to winter weather conditions, no dryer, and a north facing apartment. In fact, we can’t even run our washer and another appliance at the same time without the power going out. Truth is, we cannot run ANY two appliances without the power going out. Who came up with this back-asswards system, where the electric bill costs 150€ a month yet doesn’t consistently PROVIDE ELECTRICITY? I know I’m not the only one with this problem. I’ve heard others discuss similar problems, and on our travels we also ran into electrical snafus.

Add that to the serious lack of WiFi on the Iberian Peninsula, and I’m about done. The Internet rarely works well anywhere. We pay an exorbitant amount of money for ADSL and a phone with a data plan, and it’s designed for someone who doesn’t seem to actually USE it. Bruce tried to PAY for more megabytes today, and the web site locked him out!

The schools… I’ve complained a bit, but let me add on. My middle child has a gift. Not all of us are born with it, but out of my entire household, she is the one who truly has the gift of language. She has picked up more Castellano than the rest of us combined. Yet, the day before Christmas break, she came home with a report card with a failing grade in science, the equivalent to a D in Lengua Castellano, and a D in art (have I mentioned that she’s an artist and actually plans to make a career out of this?)? Her report card came with a note stating that she was pulled out for support for science and lengua. Upon further review (her interpretation), she is pulled out of class for those subjects, then put back in the classes (that she has then missed!) to take the exams, which are of course all rote memorization of facts. Not only that, but I didn’t receive any communication from the school, prior to the report card at the end of the term, either about the support classes or her FAILING.

I could pinpoint many reasons why this country is failing. But I think I’ll stick with lack of lice checks/healthcare, high bills that cover nothing, and schools that overlook gifts for rote memorization of facts, leading to a country filled with people who cannot provide basic services such as electricity, WiFi, or a paycheck.