Photo source: lorena pajares |
for Ai-jen Poo and Maria Shriver
When the poor woman leans in
it is to hold the steering wheel tight
and grip hard, sliding into the turn
to avoid a skid on wet pavement
and tires worn to a sheen.
She sits closer to a small flame
on a gas stove, and rubs her hands
with her children’s, because electricity
is money burning, and she doesn’t have it.
She leans in with someone else’s child
on her hip, over a sink,
scrubbing hard at the dirt
others leave behind, polishing
her body to exhaustion.
When the poor woman leans in
to the cashier at the food store
it is to whisper about bringing the five
dollars short tomorrow,
and has Oreos because apples and oranges
are something more entirely.
Janice Lynch Schuster is the author of a collection, Saturday at the Gym, and has been published in various print and online venues, including Poet Lore, Your Daily Poem, and The Broadkill Review. She writes about health care and public policy, lives in Annapolis, MD, and works in Washington, DC.