Ungodly Apartment Building

by Teresa White
Wild Poetry Forum
Honorable Mention, October 2007
Judged by E. Ethelbert Miller


I wait on the stoop of a Sunday morning
and never once seen nobody slicked up
like Uncle Jake used to be
or any lady all fancy with a hat.

Why I couldn’t count one cherry nor bird to eat it
just these woolies come down
over their prissy pink ears
and my guess is not a one was headed
up to the Baptists nor the Catholics neither.

Lil’ Tim had a whistle
and sometimes he’d join me and give ‘er a blow
when the rouged-up frillies from Apartment 2-B
come draggin’ out ’bout ten.
Mama wouldn’t say but I knew
they weren’t telling nursery rhymes
to rich Mr. Black.

That Tim, even he didn’t believe in Jesus
so at night ‘fore I settled right fine in bed,
I prayed hard that those fancy ladies would see the light
and now I had to add Tim too.