Maya Angelou - Momma Welfare Roll

Her arms semaphore fat triangles, <br />Pudgy hands bunched on layered hips <br />Where bones idle under years of fatback <br />And lima beans. <br />Her jowls shiver in accusation <br />Of crimes clichéd by <br />Repetition. Her children, strangers <br />To childhood's toys, play <br />Best the games of darkened doorways, <br />Rooftop tag, and know the slick feel of <br />Other people's property. <br /> <br />Too fat to whore, <br />Too mad to work, <br />Searches her dreams for the <br />Lucky sign and walks bare-handed <br />Into a den of bureaucrats for <br />Her portion. <br />'They don't give me welfare. <br />I take it.'<br /><br />Maya Angelou<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/momma-welfare-roll/