Signs/3
... PARTICIPANT in the window, and Deek doesn’t want WIC CHECKS,
so they’re no good to you.
You pride yourself on your budgeting skills.
You stare at the letter in front of you,
CHILDREN, YOUTH, AND FAMILY SERVICES in bold,
authoritative letters at the top.
It says that you are no longer the legal guardian of Little Rocky.
You wish Rocky was here with you, but he’s doing
six to eighteen months at the COUNTY JAIL.
How did it ever get like this, you wonder?
You brush the FritoLay bag and the Domino’s Pizza Box
off the torn nauhgahyde sofa
as your chin falls to your chest.
Slowly, you slide to the floor and turn around,
making the swath of Duct Tape your altar.
You pray to OUR FATHER, WHO ART IN HEAVEN.
You ask for help from this insanity.
You pick up the YELLOW PAGES and start searching.
The sign out front said SAINT JOSEPH EPISCOPAL CHURCH,
but there was no sign
for ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS.
You hope this is the right place.
You see people outside, some smoking,
some drinking coffee, and some hugging each other.
You shake hands with someone who says to you, “WELCOME.”
You still don’t know if this is the place, but the coffee smells good.
You sit down and hear people recite a prayer,
the one on the wall that says GOD GRANT ME THE SERENITY.
You listen, as they echo other signs on the wall,
like THE ONLY REQUIREMENT FOR MEMBERSHIP IS A DESIRE TO STOP DRINKING.
It’s all very different to you, but you try to listen to it all.
Someone brings up a topic called EMOTIONAL MATURITY.
They say that EMOTIONAL MATURITY stops
when the addiction to alcohol begins.
You don’t understand. The coffee is good,