Being Poor

By John Scalzi

Being poor is knowing exactly how much everything costs.

Being poor is getting angry at your kids for asking for all the crap they see on
TV.

Being poor is having to keep buying $800 cars because they're what you can
afford, and then having the cars break down on you, because there's not an $800
car in America that's worth a damn.

Being poor is hoping the toothache goes away.

Being poor is knowing your kid goes to friends' houses but never has friends
over to yours.

Being poor is going to the restroom before you get in the school lunch line so
your friends will be ahead of you and won't hear you say "I get free lunch" when
you get to the cashier.

Being poor is living next to the freeway.

Being poor is wondering whether your well-off sibling is lying when he says he
doesn't mind when you ask for help.

Being poor is off-brand toys.

Being poor is a heater in only one room of the house.

Being poor is hoping your kids don't have a growth spurt.

Being poor is stealing meat from the store, frying it up before your mom gets
home and then telling her she doesn't have to make dinner tonight because you're
not hungry anyway.

Being poor is not enough space for everyone who lives with you.

Being poor is feeling the glued soles tear off your supermarket shoes when you
run around the playground.

Being poor is your kid's school being the one with the 15-year-old textbooks and
no air conditioning.

Being poor is thinking $8 an hour is a really good deal.

Being poor is relying on people who don't give a damn about you.

Being poor is finding the letter your mom wrote to your dad begging him for the
child support.

Being poor is a bathtub you have to empty into the toilet.

Being poor is stopping the car to take a lamp from a stranger's trash.

Being poor is making lunch for your kid when a cockroach skitters over the
bread, and you looking over to see whether your kid saw.

Being poor is believing a GED actually makes a difference.

Being poor is people angry at you just for walking around in the mall.

Being poor is not taking the job because you can't find someone you trust to
watch your kids.

Being poor is the police busting into the apartment right next to yours.

Being poor is not talking to that girl because she'll probably just laugh at
your clothes.

Being poor is hoping you'll be invited for dinner.

Being poor is a sidewalk with lots of brown glass on it.

Being poor is people thinking they know something about you by the way you talk.

Being poor is needing that 35-cent raise.

Being poor is your kid's teacher assuming you don't have any books in your home.

Being poor is $6 short on the utility bill and no way to close the gap.

Being poor is crying when you drop the mac and cheese on the floor.

Being poor is knowing you work as hard as anyone, anywhere.

Being poor is people surprised to discover you're not actually stupid.

Being poor is people surprised to discover you're not actually lazy.

Being poor is never buying anything someone else hasn't bought first.

Being poor is picking the 10-cent ramen noodles instead of the 12-cent ramen
noodles because that's two extra packages for every dollar.

Being poor is getting tired of people wanting you to be grateful.

Being poor is knowing you're being judged.

Being poor is a box of crayons and a $1 coloring book from a community center
Santa.

Being poor is checking the coin return slot of every soda machine you go by.

Being poor is deciding that it's all right to base a relationship on shelter.

Being poor is hoping the register lady will spot you the dime.

Being poor is feeling helpless when your children make the same mistakes you did
and won't listen to you beg them against doing so.

Being poor is a cough that doesn't go away.

Being poor is making sure you don't spill on the couch, just in case you have to
give it back before the lease is up.

Being poor is a $200 paycheck advance from a company that takes $250 when the
paycheck comes in.

Being poor is four years of night classes for an associate of arts degree.

Being poor is a lumpy futon bed.

Being poor is knowing where the shelter is.

Being poor is people who have never been poor wondering why you choose to be so.

Being poor is knowing how hard it is to stop being poor.

Being poor is seeing how few options you have.

Being poor is running in place.

Being poor is people wondering why you didn't leave.

----------

in honor of the city that almost became my home

Ugly Day

Goodbye, New Orleans, goodbye
Salad bowl of jazzy beats and glittering beads
Turned to toilet bowl of raw sewage and
contaminated grease
Displacement, place of national disgrace
Take to your roofs; the dark cloud is upon you
Now you know where freedom's priorities reside
Help is on the way, but not necessarily today
All tied up in oil lies, watch the prices rise
Superman's cape has been stripped inch by inch
By the caustic breath of your elected officials
Are you seeing red yet, through the red tape, Red
state
When the levy breaks and only the rich survive
It's coming for you too, wherever you are
Coming like that dream you can't escape
Casting its shadow on your children
Too short to reach the rising surface
Death floating, bloated, how can we possibly smell
it
When our nose is stuck deep in someone's butt
overseas
The losers of the liberty-game are boiling in the
stew
Goodbye, Mardi Gras, the ghetto blood is upon you
Dancing queen drag your way to the Astrodome
The parade is coming to the Southside in pickup
trucks
Chased from 89th by gators and Lake Pontchartrain
Great Ugly Day, your tears deluge the living rooms
And the refugees are living on the overpass
Waving the shirts off their backs in utter despair
Fats Domino flying away in his black hawk copter
And they say the wicked season is only half over
Do not blame it on anything named Katrina
The evangelical Bozo saw it in the cards
Grabbed the remote and flicked on Jerry Springer
The pump maintenance more trouble than an exodus
The riff raff views the French Quarter from his
window
It fogs up as he spouts his own torrent of
righteousness
Arrest them; shoot them, the wild animals run
rampant
Drown them in their attics, so we can gentrify
Strangle the Big Easy with speech-writers, buying
a little time
Freak of mother flooder dealt with after he bagged
the putter
Goodbye infrastructure your cowboy junky failed
you
Flew over in his airplane and blew you a little
kiss
Chalked up and knocked the sun into the corner
pocket
Too late to pass a measure on the dry land of
Congress
Should have would have could have--but didn't
Birth of a curse, Miss America's water just broke
The dark cloud of indifference is upon you,
Louisiana
Don't feel bad it's nothing but a class thing
It was your choice after all to remain
underprivileged
So you did not see the muted message on high
priced TV
Why didn't you pray for a magic bus meant only for
the deprived
Oh merciful God, why didn't you teach them how to
swim
Hyatt Regency, open your doors to the forsaken
Who can't go home to their Popsicle sticks and
Tonka Toys
Start another war, divert attention from our gore
Sound bytes trivialize overpriced plywood card
houses
Do not dare speak the words global warming
Compare it to nine-eleven, that always works
wonders
The ocean hijacked the Gulf Coast with a rotary
saw
Turned up the oven and the people in the pot
roasted
We would all empathize but we've forgotten how to
cry
We'll have a rock concert instead, a week from
Friday
But unfortunately by then you'll all be long gone
So goodbye, New Orleans,

goodbye,

goodbye,

goodbye


--C. J. Laity
September 2, 2005

I premiered my poem "Ugly Day" at the DvA one year
anniversary poetry bash on September 2, and then
again in the book tent at the 16th annual African
Festival of the Arts on Labor Day. Since then
many have written asking about the poem or
commenting about the impact the poem has had upon
them. Rather than explain what I mean by the
poem, here is a copy of it in its entirety.
Feel free to quote me from it as long as you give
credit, republish it as long as you let me know
about it, and pass it along at will.