White boy trapped on a bus on the first floor of
Social Services
On the second floor of Social Services
In the basement of
Social Services. Too many people
Too much NOISE. NOISE. NOISE.
Black people hollering,
Hallowing in their phones and
At each other across
The over crowded diseased waiting room
Puerto Ricans speaking in tongues
So fast and loud it hurts while the Mexicans Remain still watching their children
Jump from chair to chair to chair
Eloquently Annoyingly
Too much NOISE. NOISE. NOISE.
White people scream at their children
Children cry. Cry. Cry baby. Cry babies everywhere.
Every floor. Every waiting room.
On the first floor of Social Services
On the second floor of
Social Services.
In the basement of Social Services.
I try to hide in my books Hide in my head
I want to scream until I get relief
Relief when my name is called.
When I leave I walk speedily to the bus stop to face mre people waiting to
Overcrowd the bus and I get claustrophobic.
On the bus. My goal is to get off as soon as I can.
White boy trapped no longer.
Jumps off the bus several stops early and
I walk home almost in peace.
No muggers.
Just beggars.
“Gimme a cigarette?”
“Do you gots a quarter?”
I open the door to my home and feel relief and brief
FREEDOM.
I realize I am still a white boy trapped in
My own home
As the sun goes down.
At least there’s not much noise here.
Posted by richhillenjr 
