for lucille clifton



I opened a bank account

when I was nine years old

I closed it when I was eighteen

I gave them every penny that I'd saved

and they gave my blood

and my urine

a number

now I'm sitting in this waiting room

playing with the toys

and I am here to exercise

my freedom of choice

I passed their handheld signs

went through their picket lines

they gathered when they saw me coming

they shouted when they saw me cross

I said why don't you go home

just leave me alone

I'm just another woman lost

you are like fish in the water

who don't know that they are wet

as far as I can tell

the world isn't perfect yet

his bored eyes were obscene

on his denim thighs a magazine

I wish he'd never come here with me

in fact I wish he'd never come near me

I wish his shoulder

wasn't touching mine

I am growing older

waiting in this line

some of lifes best lessons

are learned at the worst times

under the fierce flourescent

she offered her hand for me to hold

she offered stability and calm

and I was crushing her palm

through the pinch pull wincing

my smile unconvincing

on that sterile battlefield that sees

only casualties

never heros

my heart hit absolute zero

Lucille, your voice still sounds in me

mine was a relatively easy tragedy

now the profile of our country

looks a little less hard nosed

but that picket line persisted

and that clinic's since been closed

they keep pounding their fists on reality

hoping it will break

but I don't think there's a one of us

leads a life free of mistakes