The Sirens

When you finally stop hearing sirens, the silence can be alarming...

that's what it was like for me when I moved to the North Bronx…

there were elevators and grass, but no sirens

the concrete wasn't as dark as the sky right before the sun invades

and there was laughter without the interruption of gunshots

people keep telling me I've spent more time up North but the South coddles the most memories

I had my first nightmare in a one bedroom in the South Bronx

I had my first love in a two bedroom in the North Bronx

I jumped double dutch, ate five cent candies and watched my first friend kill himself in the South Bronx

the North Bronx never stirred me so

I never wanted to run from here because I never really felt like I was here

I smack my gum and I talk my shit

I am a child of poverty...

of spanish speaking godparents…

of trains rattling my teddy bears sitting on my window sill…

of bamboo earrings and milk crates for basketball hoops…

Those are more than memories…

More than places I've lived…

Those are places that live inside of me…

And while I thank my mother for moving me out, the South Bronx moved in and it has never stopped paying its rent to my ribs.