There Is a Place

There is a place

with waxing armpits on video in the kitchen

a room where a man plays computer games

and liked brunettes over blondes

There is a living room

with a sword collection

and a couch

where adults bet over competition shows

and a nine-year-old girl with recently divorced parents

away from home

tried to learn how to play a song

on the blue guitar her grandma got her

but never got to

before they had to leave

There is another place

with a green roof

that covered rainfall

but could never stop

the water damage liquor has

on a family

There was sherbet in the kitchen freezer

and a pull-out bed with sharp edges

a free Nintendo 64 discovered in the dumpster

and a chocolate bar golden ticket

that wins you free trips to motels in the middle of the night

And there is an orange cat with no tail who lives there

after being brought back from ohio

that got declawed and became depressed and fat

There’s a pool in the complex

where you lose anklets from fake girlfriends named carey

and a vase gets broken on the floor

and a lie is told about curtain rods

and so you pack up your barbies and leave for a new place

but the smell of cigarettes

comes with you

There is another place

with vertical wood panels as wall coverings

that look rustic

but don’t drown out the sound of crying

There is a laundry room where kids play hide and seek

and speculate about ghosts

There is a mattress against the wall

marker on stomachs

the taste of rotten cheese

and food pantry chicken pot pie

There is a balcony

where custody is discussed

and hour-long phone calls are made late at night

There is a heater that doesn’t work

but centipedes live in

and there’s a white christmas tree with no presents underneath

and white diamond perfume on a pillow

and white and black stuffed tiger named savannah

There are snowbank forts

and pink storage containers

an entertainment center that wants to fall over

and a breakfast bar that no family dinners are eaten at

There is a guy who lives in a place

around the corner, identical to this one

(and the forty around it)

who shows neighborhood kids

his lighter

and says he can’t feel pain

There is a lady with a big cat obsession

who lives on the ground floor

that watches children

and feeds them strawberries and sugar

and steals bikes as ransom

for babysitting money

There is a gas station on the way here

with a petting zoo in the back

that you look forward to

more than the destination

 There is another place

with a library and beach

just far enough

for kids to bike to

to avoid being at home

With dirt mountains to ride on

and drawing on backs

the same pullout couch

and a tv with the nanny and george lopez

There is a yard with two-packs-a-day

and a living room floor

with drunk bodies to step over on your way to get water

A facebook game designated computer

a panda hat for christmas

and a full thanksgiving dinner for three people

who would all rather be somewhere

(with someone)

else

There is another place

with insulation good enough

to keep a home warm in the winter

but failed

to keep fire from spreading

It has a preteens girl’s wall full of magazine clippings

a floor full of mattresses

stained from the discovery of

painting and makeup

And a song on repeat

and drawers left open

to reveal push-up bras and walmart underwear

There is a kitchen

with silkworm moths on the pantry ceiling

lots of ramen noodles and kool-aid

and vodka and popsicles in the freezer

There are walls stained the color of smoke

drawers with burnt out cherry flavored e-cigarettes

and an unfinished downstairs

with cardboard walls

and four beds

that kids gather

to watch movies

and drink their first sips of vodka

that their mother bought them

There is a buffer that exists there

between a person and the truth

and the moments it breaks to reveal

the reality of sickness

(where the seed of resentment is planted)

There is another place

with living room/bedroom hybrids

curtains instead of doors

noisy drunks

too-small-of-a-space

drinks with straws

and ash trays in bathrooms

Where a teenage girl figured out how to stand her ground

and finally leaves a cycle of carrying pain

from house to house

There is a different place

with secure walls

that creak at night

and are covered on the outside with blue siding

that protect a baby girl

from storm and pain alike

With a pool outback

and a basement

encapsulating the life of a good man

and the friends and family who love him

There is a birch tree out front

that acts as a centerpiece of a painting

a playhouse for children

and a motif in poetry

This place holds the history

of a family

torn apart by the nature of love

but brought together by food

and a piano with broken keys

a kitchen gate ruined by dogs

siblings dressing up as each other

iron chef screenings on the floor together

and a ship fort made out of couches

The carpet an ode to the matted dog hair and paws that changed its color

The bunk beds and winnie the pooh wallpaper an ode to the life of two children

who grew up and discovered the reality of suffering

and how the people who are meant to protect you,

don’t always succeed

but I am very grateful

for them

trying

-Sara Moralez

Born and raised in inner city Milwaukee, Sara Moralez (she/her) is a multidisciplinary artist currently in her senior year at Milwaukee Institute of Art and Design. With a focus in poetry, sculpture, and video, Moralez aims to marry these mediums together to highlight stories of the intersecting identities and communities she’s a part of. Drawing inspiration from her Mexican American culture, queerness, gender identity, memory, and femininity—her unique voice shares narratives about the disconnect and confusion that comes with self-definition. Instagram: @sicksnakes.