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"Even After Everything"
It's not a bad city,
San Francisco, if you're
not too picky about how
you raise money to pay
its outrageous rent.
The gangsta girl
is not picky, and
her sparrow wings
make her forgettable.
The goldfinch boi is
beautiful and has
no trouble pulling
enough tricks.
The problem is
that nothing in
their neighborhood
is really good, and
while they can handle
that, not everyone can.
They're walking past
the crappy church when
they hear the ruckus.
Someone is hassling
the pregnant teens again.
The gangsta girl swears
and wraps a chain around
her fist because oh hell no
is she putting up with this shit.
She piles into the back of
the biggest guy, punching him
hard in the kidneys, and
down he goes, boom!
Some of the girls take
the opportunity to split,
but not all of them do.
This is not good, because
some church folks are left
and they mean trouble.
If the devil's nicer
than the church folks,
then we've got a problem.
"Dykes!" one of them sneers.
"We don't need your kind
around here, corrupting
our impressionable youth."
"Do you even know where
babies come from, dumbass?"
the gangsta girl snaps. "You
think they fall outta the sky?"
He's gearing up to take
a swing at her when
the goldfinch conks
him with a loose brick.
He goes down and stays down.
The goldfinch just stares at them
without a lick of pity. "Denial's
an ugly river, and you're
drowning in it, guys."
All but one of the girls
have run off now,
which is good.
The gangsta turns
to the one remaining.
"Come on, we'll walk you
down to the women's shelter,"
she offers. "It ain't fancy,
but it's warm and dry and
nobody tries to fuck you."
"You were right," the girl says,
her dove wings fluttering.
"Right about what?"
the goldfinch says
as she joins them.
"Denial," the dove says.
"It was a priest who ..."
She waves a hand at
the swell of her belly.
"Yeah, that happens,"
the gangsta girl says.
The dove girl steps past
the guys groaning on
the broken sidewalk.
"The hideous thing is this:
I want to forgive him," she said,
wiping her eyes with the back of
her hand. "Even after everything, I do.
A baby before my seventeenth birthday
and a future as lonely as the surface
of the moon and still the sight of
him feels like a homecoming."
"Girl, you need a new home,"
the gangsta says firmly.
She doesn't argue with that.
* * *
Notes:
“The hideous thing is this: I want to forgive him. Even after everything, I do. A baby before my 17th birthday and a future as lonely as the surface of the moon and still the sight of him feels like a homecoming, like a song I used to know but somehow forgot.”
― Katie Cotugno, How to Love
This poem belongs to the series Fledgling Grace. It follows "Pluck" and "Itching and Scratching."