white trash (or good old Highlands, NJ)
people walk along, easy, dressed
down, lighting cigarettes and calling
out to one another
the main road is lined with bars
and other businesses that are independently
owned, no TGI Fridays or Wal Mart or
Home Depot for miles
the nearest grocery store is a dump
and I know all the clerks by name
the ocean is just 2 blocks away
when people ask me where I live
I tell them—
they say oh as if they’re sorry for me
because, of course:
the houses are close together
not enough land
too many renters
Blacks live here
and Mexicans, and don’t forget
White Trash, which, from what I’ve gathered
means you don’t
dress up for the job
climb the corporate ladder
own a home or
have your own accountant
and you might live
paycheck to paycheck
you may not carry health/dental/life
insurance policies
and you may even
smoke cigarettes, drink beer or
drive a 10 year old car
all of which makes me a member
makes me white trash
not wanting, striving, yearning to be rich
is suspect but I like it here
people sitting out on terraces, hanging
clothes, sheets, towels over the railings
in the face of all that’s decent and uniform;
hide it all behind the curtains, let the
White Trash stand out there
with their dirty laughter
dark smoke
cool salt air.
© 2008 Lisa LaTourette
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