A Poem by Erren Geraud Kelly
The houses are neat and spaced apart,
But love is a ghost, living in their hearts,
and some show signs you’re not welcomed here.
I walk around delivering Ikea catalogs;
a white woman looks at me like a turd, she
prefers that the houses are neat and spaced apart.
If you’re not one of them, beware
of those, who don’t look like you;
they’ll let you know, you’re not welcomed here.
More money, more problems, a world seldom seen;
They claim we matter, but we really don’t
and they like their houses neat and spaced apart.
The white folks get blacker, the black folks get whiter
as they’re cashing in on a dream deferred, that’s
telling them, you’re not welcomed here.
The mexicans keep the lawns neat,
a lexus rolls by playing a hip hop beat.
The houses are neat and spaced apart
and some want to prove they belong here.