Bishop
I don’t think I’ll leave this home.
Uncut grass, stray cats I’ll always feed,
banana roots my mother planted roots 30
years ago on Bishop
When my father leaves this life,
He leaves behind Ramadan Hafizeen Yop,
this house, and his faith may it continue with
all his children ameen
We still keep hundreds of pieces of my
mother’s relics
Almost five years since your last breath in
this dunya
her everyday clothes I can’t build the
courage to donate
Second hand knick knacks, their only
purpose was to make you smile
This home housed a village
Aboutaleps, Cazarez, Na, Woolford
A room for each family
A hand carved cherry wood dining table
imported from overseas , only for us to
spread our straw mats on the living room
floor special occasions,
Eating utensil-less and barefoot
My parrot used to wake to the sound of my
mother’s voice
Now I hear my mother’s echo in Marie’s
lonesome
There isn’t really a center of new memories
to flourish here yet
Maybe if I decide to marry someday,
I’d like to create memories in the kitchen,
the belly, the center of the home
The organ that houses all emotions,
butterflies, and fried garlic
My siblings and I didn’t always see eye to
heart, we couldn’t match each other’s heart
beat
We knew the foods that brought us all
together
I used to be angry and disappointed with
myself, being the only sibling still left here in
this home
But my father wishes to leave it with one of
his child
I used to always want to leave this place Nudging myself into the homes of families I pictured perfect, I wished for my family to resemble theirs
There’s something about uncut grass that
tells a story of the land owners
Their hands are aging
But feeding the stray cats chicken bones
keeps the heart soft
There’s something about the over producing Thai bananas that tell me I’ll have my own banana kids in his home some day
This home isn’t perfect, it probably won’t
hold its equity even if we sell it
Tell me, what price tag would you put on
home of prophet Ayoub (Peace Be Upon
Him)
Someone, who God tested their faith in loss
of family, wealth, and children
There’s is a different kind of wealth Ayoub
gets to reap in,
It lies within the walls, soil, and foundation on Bishop Street.
I don’t ever think I’ll leave this home.