13 ways of looking at growing up poor

By CJ Sommerfeld, Staff Writer

I

counterfeiting
aesthetic. not admitting
the origins of all you own
were neither by choice nor new
hoping others haven’t caught on,
unwitting 

II

through the un-mowed grass
segmenting
ant’s bodies into three
no one’s around to tell you that the red ones bite
ant’s bodies into three
segmenting
through the un-mowed grass

III

the weathered neighbor who eats
canned cat food has come around to sell her plants
again. your illiterate mother
reminds you to stay in school

IV

boredom is a mythical creature 
when money doesn’t do things for you
forced resourcefulness 
when money doesn’t decide things for you
a creative-breeding teacher
when money doesn’t buy things for you
autonomous procedure

V

field study: the outsider is always positioned
to analyze
un-unanimous with the highest register 
un-succumbed to emotion, instead a logical
comprehension, like looking into a sea of tea
when the waves calm before reaching the beach
a liquid window, waters paralyzed

VI

we had less fears than our middle
class counterparts
theirs: instilled by the watchful
eye of a hovering parent
ours: come later after living a bit

VII

in sociology class we learnt
that when a child is asked
what they want to be when they grow up,
they’ll name a job which adults around them have
kids raised in low-income neighborhoods will say
something like grocery clerk
whereas kids who’ve grown-up in an elevated
one will list titles that elicit better responses

VIII

At what age do we start recognizing disapproving looks from others?

IX

Terry Fox tee, learning not to look long
in the mirror above the brass horse statuettes—Robin Richardson

Zellers sweats, smell like mum’s cigarettes
hair a mess in mismatched barrettes
on the shelf scuffed and caseless, analog videocassettes 

X

blinded by the dystopia of government housing
and inner-city schools
we made the front page
The little school that could
because something happened which society
didn’t associate to derelicts 

XI

over-ripe fruit and skunk
a cursory whiff from across the carpet-stained
living room
once I mistook one for pop
it wasn’t as sickly sweet as it smelt
instead, aqueous metal
I wondered why all the adults in the neighborhood
always had one in hand

XII

open-ended ventures
propagated divergent conjectures
inventor uncensored

XIII

the rest now: counterfeiting
aesthetic. not admitting
the origins of all you own
duplicating
what we’ve created through our lifetime
adopted artistry
hoping others haven’t caught on,
unwitting