I hear little voices outside,
downstairs
I look over the balcony and see them doing things in the pagoda the landlord believes is worth charging all that kinda month in rent.
I am hypersensitive to what is going on around me, I guess because I know not good things are happening
around me
So I am aware of your posture, your clothes, your glasses,
your ink and bookmarks and the times you laugh and the times you do not
Looking for trouble where no trouble is,
but trouble is, and will always be.
So when it is two in the morning and I hear things
I’m looking out for you.

I met Heather Nathan because I heard them making noise past my window
Little people! New! So I went down to see them and I was glad to see them.
I have to write down their names because I’m in that place where
stuff don’t stick
And all I could think was those days when Dad was far away
and Mom was too
and we weren’t allowed in the house without them
I guess because they thought we’d burn the whole thing down if they weren’t home,
But didn’t they know we live here too?
We froze fingers and toes after tumbling off the bus, wondering why the door wasn’t opened for us
I pissed my pants one day, frozen, hopeless, because they couldn’t trust us in the house.

This is my prayer to you, little ones who I met today while your mom is doing whatever while
you have to be outside and play in the cold
I must not swoop down and try to become some Marvel character to you,
but that does not mean I don’t see you, little ones.
I’m cold with you, I’m strong with you,
I know all your questions and I can’t answer them for you,
I’ll keep an eye out.
It’s best I can do. And I won’t sleep better for it.