Joy to a Sister

​This poem was the winning piece performed in the Detroit Grand Slam 2016 which was the qualifier for being on the Detroit Team in Brave New Voices 2016. Video of performance included.

(Transcript: Revised Version)

Hey lil’ sis, fresh out the womb
Smelling like that wonderful Johnson baby shampoo... and vomit
I’m so glad you’re finally here!
I have something to tell you,
As an insider, sister to sister.

Our parents love all seven of our baby shampoo smelling selves
And they both love each other
I remember feeling that smile spread out on my cheeks as
We sat around the table to eat dinner
We’d grab an extra stool or three
Before some of us graduated from high school
And then mom started eating in her room
To leave me with a mouth full of lonely food
It always tastes like something’s missing

Our parents love us
And I think they love one another
Our dad got a new African grey Congo parakeet named Joy,
Like the eighth child
Until mom found out
She called Dad the Devil for caging Joy
Then Dad called Mom the Devil for pushing Joy away
Now I call myself the Devil for not being able to stop
Joy from getting forced to live all by herself in the basement

Our parents love us
But I don’t think they love each other anymore
All mom can do is yell at him about Joy,
All dad does is pretend he’s always right.
While I stay hidden in the shadows of the basement,
Sitting with Joy on my arm
Silent tears rolling off of her African grey feathers
Remembering that the worst thing the actual Devil can do
Is separate a family,

It’s like the bird understands
Like she knows how I feel
Even though she can’t
Joy can’t even fly.

Our parents love us
But sometimes I think
they never loved each other in the first place

All Dad wants is joy
All mom wants is for Joy to be gone.
She isn’t talking about the bird.
It’s about him,
And us,
Because if you and I weren’t here
Nothing would stop them
from throwing those rings
back into the ocean they crossed to get here

Oh god, and it sounds like the devil is working
When I hear their voices,
screaming down the staircase

Our parents
Do our parents even love us?
If they did, wouldn’t they try pretending to care about each other?

But then, wouldn’t holding back the arguments just darken the storm?
The clouds will build up deep in their hearts
Until it all comes pouring down!
Their rain would flood out my basement,
Joy wouldn’t be able to breathe,
Is giving up Joy the only way we can
keep our family together?

Why don’t they just divorce?

They can’t.
They won’t.
They have us.

Right? Because otherwise,
We’d be cut off
Clipped
Like the wings of Joy
Not even knowing who to crawl to
Separated
Like the devil wants
With nothing to guide us but
A holy book we’d stop reading
​
I don’t want you to go through that
I’m going to do everything I can to make sure
You don’t go through that
You’re my baby sister
I love you
And my love is what’s going to get us through this.

-Hawa Rahman