Memories

Dusty streets tumble wildly into chaotic patterns
Tin-roofed houses with colorful doors
When the rain comes it slides off
When the rain comes they cave in
And the children with sticky faces huddle in the neighbors house
and the neighbor feeds them strawberry milk and cereal

Sitting on doorsteps sipping cocacola
Buying tampons from the man at the corner store
And he forgets to put them in a bag
Men will forget these things
Maria blushes and shoves them in her jacket pocket

Tiny hurtling buses
18 & 32 turquoise and orange
Numbers written on a wrinkled note card
Shoved into a wallet, clutched in a trembling hand
With small rusty coins, counting change again and again
Hands grip metal grip seats grip backpacks
Balancing becomes an art