Email Poem

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Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

To diary:

Mama, by now, I suspect you are on my trail
to Phoenix, however I do think you figured
it all out-the red herrings... and are instead
on the right path to Seattle. A part me wants
to challenge you. As much as you are in 
pursuit of me, I am in pursuit of reading
about Evelyn Lau, teenage runaway and poet...
for the second time.


To diary:

I Got tree sap, aka hotel front desk worker,
for another blanket. It's too easy, mama. Watch."Ma'am,
my mother in room 101 request a blanket and pillow,"
and like clockwork she gave it to me, then I pause,
"ma'am can we also get some toothbrushes and toothpaste"
and like clockwork she gave it to me. What a tree sap.
Although this time our eyes met and I think she's onto
me. But that didn't stop me from taking a green apple
and newspaper. mama, let me tell you these come in
handy... let me tell you... oh, oh i just figured it
out, the lobby's  the first floor there can't be a room
101. She's playing me. What else is new.



Today I went to the library 
sitting at a nook
quite contrary
reading a book

the staff was cold as ice
i say screw the kiddie section
my answer not so nice
why is this the wrong direction

it's hard being eleven
where their prying eyes
on me being adult smart
they try to befriend and spy

the books I read
the information I consort
the knowledge I feed
the ideologies I support

baby girl plays the sham
changing the Lau book
with green eggs and ham
and returning their looks

this is all too irony
sleeping on the streets
dealing with their tyranny
and trying to be upbeat

I pass these books and nooks
I say She who forges her own path
being mistook
wields her own fate
with upending wrath
to being one of the greats


Paris Pachecho

connie pachecho

12/30/16

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