Every eye watch me because
one: my hair, clothes, skin, shoes
is differing from people here.
Every eye watch me because
two: I not have car, cash, friends, trust.
I walk in petrol station
to Magic Trees department that give cars flower smell,
newspapers with many hard words,
magazines with many pictures of dirty beauty girls
and
celebrities with all the sexy muscle and money.
Then I see them
close to the pay area
and near the exit get away.
I spy candy sweets.
My stomach do see-saw.
My eyes pop.
Too long since I eat
any chocolate bar,
all sitting in rows like little sparkle soldiers
making technicolour in my eye.
Which one?
Which one?
I know shop workers want to catch thief in red hand
so I must act
super rapido:
grab
snatch
steal
bolt.
I do the quick nab,
open door and
Usain
Bolt fast.
Security man
sprint faster.
I tumble.
Security man’s big hand
dig in my shoulder.
Big carrot fingers
rip my trackie.
Tata will go off his bonkers
because he telling me many time
never let them catching you.
But they always catching me.
Three time now they catch.
That’s why
I cry and have massive press in the chest.
Not because another arrest
or security man sitting his arse on me,
but because I don’t want to be getting Tata’s
left right
right left
jab
to the abs or head.
I see it all in my imaginings:
me on floor,
Tata snorting nose steam like bull,
Mămică helping my
tears
and
blood.
I am terror full.
That’s why
I hoping police will be my protect
when Tata come get me
from
cell station.