I remember you’d stare, or at least I’d think I’d see you sneer even if you were looking
at the ground.
I swear I’d see you stare from all the way over there even if turns out there was
no one around.
I’d breathe in the glares/Sideways glances/As my family ruins your dinner/We’re not romantic.
Two little pretty prefect people, evidently hyper aware: With their eyes wonder:
“What’s that retard doing with crumbs in her hair?”
While Rebecca Eats.
She just wants a coke but ma rarely lets her have it.
Tries to make milk and OJ a regular habit.
While Regular people can’t grasp it.
“That kid is throwing a fit at this restaurant!”
“Some spoiled North Berkeley daughter gets whatever she wants.”
But that, this is not.
6 Brothers and sisters/ All with perfect genes but my mom got the special mixture.
Once she got the ultra sound it painted a special picture.
Shortened life expectancy/”Limited” Intelligence.
With a gift to turn the boys around her into better men.
And the girls into better women.
And the capacidad to make inspiration a daily thought.
She thinks: “I’ma stay on this basketball court all afternoon, Cold or Hot.”
500 misses/A few touch the net/ No one listens/ To what she Says.
Soooo she prefers to watch musicals while I learn my 5th grade play’s five lines.
Used to yell at her for singing only to marvel later her ability to memorize.
Cats the musical in it’s entirety.
West Side Story from beginning to end.
She’d put in the VHS/ Head upstairs to her bed/ Sing the chronicles of Sharks and Jets.
Reflection and Response