and thinking about Oakland
many years ago
when Shirley and I
drove up to the Bay Area
to visit family
I included a side visit
to Oakland
I tracked down the address
of the Literary Magazine
that wasn’t sure
if they’d be able
to publish one of my poems
and I found the place
in a sketchy neighborhood
a large grassy
almost vacant lot
a distant house
at the other end
a high chain link fence
around it all
I pushed the buzzer
at the gate
and an old white woman
in a robe and slippers
shambled out
and passed my manuscript back
said
“We may not be able to
publish the next issue,
financial difficulties”
I asked if they needed money
I could maybe spare
a few dollars
she said, “No”
It was an almost ghetto
all her neighbors Black
she felt in no danger
she was part of the neighborhood
but I was sure
that realtors and developers
were circling her extensive property
like sharks
so
another of my immortal poems
never saw the light of print
and another lesson
imperfectly learned
of the way things are
in the real world
where we all live