Momma Welfare Roll

Momma Welfare Roll

Her arms semaphore fat triangles,
Pudgy hands bunched on layered hips
Where bones idle under years of fatback
And lima beans.
Her jowls shiver in accusation
Of crimes clichéd by
Repetition. Her children, strangers
To childhood's toys, play
Best the games of darkened doorways,
Rooftop tag, and know the slick feel of
Other people's property.

Too fat to whore,
Too mad to work,
Searches her dreams for the
Lucky sign and walks bare-handed
Into a den of bureaucrats for
Her portion.
'They don't give me welfare.
I take it.' 

Maya Angelou- The Mothering Blackness

The Mothering Blackness

She came home running

       back to the mothering blackness   

       deep in the smothering blackness

white tears icicle gold plains of her face   

       She came home running

She came down creeping

       here to the black arms waiting

       now to the warm heart waiting

rime of alien dreams befrosts her rich brown face   

       She came down creeping

She came home blameless

       black yet as Hagar’s daughter

       tall as was Sheba’s daughter

threats of northern winds die on the desert’s face   

       She came home blameless

Maya Angelou- Harlem Hopscotch

Harlem Hopscotch

One foot down, then hop!  It’s hot.
    Good things for the ones that’s got.
Another jump, now to the left.
    Everybody for hisself. 

In the air, now both feet down.
    Since you black, don’t stick around.
Food is gone, the rent is due,
    Curse and cry and then jump two.

All the people out of work,
    Hold for three, then twist and jerk.
Cross the line, they count you out.
    That’s what hopping’s all about.

Both feet flat, the game is done.
They think I lost. I think I won.

Maya Angelou (b. 1928)