Class (warfare) of Covid-19

You know that old saying
you can take the girl out of the trailer park
but it’ll just track her the fuck back down?

I don’t know about you, but I’m real tired
of running the socioeconomic poverty trap rat race anyway.
Do not pass go;
do not collect your welfare check.

And it doesn’t seem to matter that I’ve never seen a hard drug
up close and in person
because my neighbors have
and that shit’ll get you by proximity all the same

the way we’re dumped in here, cheek to jowl,
in the trailer parks and the hollers and the goddamn west end,
the poor and the poor bastard who can’t stop, the have-nots.

And they write us off, and hold us down,
the people at the top
of the ladder while they wax nostalgic
about their hypothetical bootstraps
and hand us down crumbs
like they’re chunks of gold and we
should be grateful,
groveling across the widening gaps
of an unraveling safety net.

And maybe it’s a lesson I missed
with my cut rate education,
but where do I sign up
for some of that trickle down privilege?

I’m only asking you to gaslight me

The problem with empathy
is I know why you do
what you do to me

The problem with empathy
is I already think of myself
as a burden

The problem with empathy
is I let you walk all over me
if it fixes you

The problem with empathy
is I accept emotional abuse
as love

The problem with empathy
is I was raised not to have needs

So how could you possibly meet them

Luxury Vinyl

I’ve spent three days
trying to find a way
to tell Upper Middle Class White Client
that installing luxury vinyl planks
in his entitlement flip
isn’t essential.
He thinks
working in an empty house
can’t possibly
break quarantine.
The people in masks at the gas station
might not agree.
And maybe I’m hooking up your
double vanities
but that doesn’t make me a plumber.
I could stop turning up,
but there’s always someone else,
and if Shelter-in-Place
is violated
it might as well be me
gets paid.

inadequate

I thought about
posting you a letter
or walking it the
fourteen minutes
to your door

but it gets dark early
in november.

I considered phoning but I
only called once back when
and I’ve lost track
who’s not talkin’ to who
but I

debated every day
what and how to say and
when and if you’d
wanna hear;

all I know is after
three months texting
“can we be friends”
feels inadequate.

I hit send.