Very rough draft

We lived in the projects

Back before I got boobs

But I always had a gut

Intuition

Backbone, the sturdiest

No one calls them the projects here

My mom never ever would

But that’s what they are

I used to take fluoride

And drink warm milk

With sugar

I couldn’t sleep well

Even back then

My mom wore nylons

Eye level with her thighs

She would look in the mirror

suck in

Look at her size

she thought she was fat

But she wasn’t

And her legs, I was obsessed

She smelled like

Cheap perfume

Aqua net

And cigarettes

Still does

She worked a lot

And there was always

A new guy

But there was always

Toilet paper too

I didn’t trust any of them

Especially the one

That went to prison

She drove

A datsen

And a Monte Carlo

Not at the same time

It always felt like summer

Windows down

Rock and roll in her hair

But I could tell

She was sad inside

Singing off key

But with all her heart to the sky

Back then food stamps

Were on paper

And everyone would stare

The most dangerous thing

About the projects

Where I come from

Someone else’s big brother

Hands that wander

The next door neighbor

We got out eventually

Mom married money

We had our own house

With trees

And cable tv

Mom didn’t have to work anymore

But she wasn’t happy

Can’t buy me love

And it certainly doesn’t grow on trees