Ordinary Psalm With Severe Neglect

I was working day shift at the County Shelter,

102 degrees in the tattered shade of that street

and this kid, maybe 5 or 6, had been scrubbed clean,

her hair oiled for lice. Her teeth rotted brown

 

from sucking juice bottles to sleep, she was busy

climbing over the dirty couch in the day room,

though when I offered, she sat next to me,

slipped her small weight against mine. The TV

 

was tuned to Animal Planet, that episode

where Arctic caribou shudder the tundra,

travelling hundreds of miles over snow, each footstep

placed exactly in the one before, the one behind,

 

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