{"id":253,"date":"2020-11-18T01:17:43","date_gmt":"2020-11-18T01:17:43","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/english.illinoisstate.edu\/euphemism\/16-1\/?page_id=253"},"modified":"2020-11-20T01:59:11","modified_gmt":"2020-11-20T01:59:11","slug":"the-big-apple","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/16-1\/poetry\/the-big-apple\/","title":{"rendered":"The Big Apple"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

The Big Apple<\/strong> <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I had never expected it to go this far. 
Not really. 
But when a prostitute tells you that  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

she\u2019s been raped by your drug-dealing boss, <\/p>\n\n\n\n

 you tell her to go home. 
I thought she was drunk. 
I thought she would call a cab.  
I didn\u2019t think she would drive.  
I didn\u2019t know she would die. 
Now I am in jail. 
I didn\u2019t do anything wrong. 
Not really. 
 
I meet a boy in the gay bar. 
He is drunk, on the verge of a blackout. 
He is half my age. 
Hits on me. 
I tell him to go home. 
He wants me to stay. 
I take him back to my apartment. 
He wants more. 
I say no. 
He pukes on me. 
He wakes up, and thanks me. 
I tell him to go home. 
He wants to stay this time. 
I know what he would think of me if he knew I was in this drug business. 
I say no. 
But he stays anyway. 
 
 
I puked, but I wanted to stay. 
He is secretive, a tad scary, but intriguing. 
I want to know more. 
I ask if he\u2019s been to a gay bar before. 
He says no. 
I ask if he\u2019s ever been with a boy before. 
He says no.  
I ask if he\u2019s disgusted that I hitted on him. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

He says no. 
I want to be with him. 
I wonder what he thinks of that. 
 
It has been sixteen years since the last time <\/p>\n\n\n\n

 I ever worked as a prostitute.  
Sixteen years since I got pregnant.  
Fourteen years since I got pregnant the next time. 
I lost my first. The dad doesn\u2019t know him.  
The second is with me still, I love Sam to pieces.  
I wonder if either of the parents wonder about  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

the woman they drunkenly got with one night. 
Probably not. 
Sam is going to school again this year. 
I am a barista now; long hours and coffee stains. 
No more short nights and accidents. 
No more daring to forget what I have seen. 
 
I am the daughter of a prostitute.  
I dream of knowing my father. 
Knowing why he chose to forget my mother. 
I am being watched. 
By a man with a black coat. 
He comes to school and asks about me. 
\u201cSam?\u201d He asks them. 
I don\u2019t know why he wants me. 
I want to ask him sometimes. 
Ask why he cares. 
Ask if he wants me. 
Instead, I stayed outside and let him watch. 
 
I sometimes wonder about all the bad things  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019ve done while in prison.\u00a0
Kidnapping. Drug dealing. Robbery.\u00a0
But nothing close to rape. Even murder.\u00a0\u00a0
I did not kill that girl. But I am going to fall for it.\u00a0\u00a0
I think of all the girls I\u2019ve taken home.\u00a0\u00a0
All the ones who I\u2019ve pushed away.\u00a0
Why would they love a criminal?\u00a0\u00a0
It\u2019s happened to men like me.\u00a0\u00a0
Love: dysfunctional until the end.\u00a0
Me: not falling for it.\u00a0
Stuck paying for a crime I didn\u2019t commit.\u00a0
Since Day 1.\u00a0
\u00a0
This young man is convinced we are in love.\u00a0
I try to shake him off, he comes back,\u00a0\u00a0
drenched in rain and tears, at my house door.\u00a0
I do not know why he wants a man\u00a0\u00a0
who has done terrible\u00a0things.\u00a0\u00a0
Terrible: extremely or distressingly bad or serious.\u00a0
I find myself telling him about my past\u00a0\u00a0
against my will.\u00a0
He finds himself telling me about himself.\u00a0
He tries to get himself into things that don\u2019t concern him.\u00a0
I am beginning to get concerned.\u00a0
He looked up my DNA test.\u00a0
He says… he says\u2026\u00a0
He says I have a child.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The boy, named Sam, is in that spot again.\u00a0
I wonder whether he knows he has a father.\u00a0
A father that\u00a0actually wants\u00a0him.\u00a0
It disgusts me that his mother kept him from him.\u00a0
Whether mistake or not, my love deserves\u00a0
His child.\u00a0
The boy stands up.\u00a0\u00a0
He is alone in that chilly spot by the wall.\u00a0
His hair falls down his chest.\u00a0
He is not a boy at all.\u00a0
The girl stares back at me.\u00a0
I gasp.\u00a0\u00a0
The DNA test said that my love had a boy.\u00a0
Not a girl.\u00a0\u00a0
Who is this girl, named\u00a0Sam,\u00a0\u00a0
And why is she here?\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sam comes home differently now.\u00a0
She has a strange look in her eyes.\u00a0
She says she is in love.\u00a0
I don\u2019t know why that scares me.\u00a0
I lost my baby\u00a0before,\u00a0will I lose her?\u00a0\u00a0
I worry that I will have to show my life to some\u00a0\u00a0
Boy who doesn\u2019t understand\u00a0
Us, or her.\u00a0
I can\u2019t tell anyone why she doesn\u2019t\u00a0
Have a father\u00a0
Or\u00a0\u00a0
Why her mother works a crappy job\u00a0
At 30.\u00a0\u00a0
I can only say\u00a0
That I wish her the best.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I watch that man as he runs away.\u00a0\u00a0
What did he see that he gasped for?\u00a0
I want to run away too.\u00a0
Away with this stalker man of mine\u00a0
And hopefully to somewhere where\u00a0
I don\u2019t have to be whispered about.\u00a0
I wish that I could\u00a0
Do things that ended up bad\u00a0
Or things that ended up just terrible.\u00a0
But\u00a0instead\u00a0I am stuck in stasis,\u00a0
As it pleases mother best.\u00a0
I won\u2019t lie to her, this man that I love,\u00a0
Is all I think about.\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My jury date is coming soon.\u00a0
I can\u2019t help feeling betrayed.\u00a0
My boss did nothing.\u00a0
I was the\u00a0witness,\u00a0it was fair play.\u00a0
You shouldn\u2019t help a prostitute.\u00a0
Especially one that got used to being\u00a0
Not one.\u00a0
That\u2019s what he said to me.\u00a0
Now I will rot in this prison.\u00a0
No family.\u00a0
No legend.\u00a0
I have no price to pay.\u00a0
This business is deadly work.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I want to see my son. No, my\u00a0daughter.<\/em>\u00a0
I can\u2019t help but think of her.\u00a0
Sam. So innocent.\u00a0
Sam: name of God.\u00a0
So\u00a0unlike me. Or her.\u00a0
I think of that woman who has kept me\u00a0
From her.\u00a0
From our child.\u00a0
I want to see her.\u00a0
I want to see her now.\u00a0
I ask this young man to take me to her.\u00a0
I will see you soon, my love.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I take my love to this girl.\u00a0
\u00a0I am not sure why they got the gender wrong,\u00a0
But I keep my mouth shut.\u00a0
I don\u2019t want to get smacked like last time.\u00a0
He was drunk. And angry.\u00a0
It didn\u2019t matter. He felt sorry.\u00a0
I was at fault.\u00a0
But now this woman is at fault.\u00a0
And she will pay for keeping my love\u00a0\u00a0
From his child.\u00a0
Don\u2019t worry, little girl,\u00a0
Your new family is coming.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I hear the door banging.\u00a0\u00a0
He asks where his daughter is.\u00a0
I am afraid.\u00a0
What does her\u00a0father\u00a0<\/em>want?\u00a0\u00a0
I open the door. Wait.\u00a0
This is not the father of my daughter.\u00a0
He does not seem to care.\u00a0\u00a0
He sees my daughter and runs to her.\u00a0
I do not recognize the man behind him.\u00a0
He is just looking at my daughter.\u00a0
My daughter.\u00a0
I try to explain. They stare at me.\u00a0
My son is dead. His name is Sam.\u00a0
Sam is Sam Junior.\u00a0
Sam had a disease, a bad one.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I find out I have a dad.\u00a0
And he is taken away just as fast.\u00a0\u00a0
I don\u2019t know why they have come for me.\u00a0
My brother is dead.\u00a0
This is his dad.\u00a0
My dad is still gone.\u00a0
And my love, the one who watches,\u00a0
Is his love.\u00a0
Not mine.\u00a0
I don\u2019t know why\u00a0this hurts.\u00a0
I want to ask him why he looked for me.\u00a0
Was it for him?\u00a0
Probably.\u00a0
But not for me.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I find out I have a daughter.\u00a0
A\u00a0daughter.\u00a0<\/em>With a woman I took home.\u00a0
She told me through the see-through wall\u00a0
On the phone.\u00a0
About my\u00a0fourteen-year old\u00a0daughter.\u00a0
I see her waiting.\u00a0
She is beautiful.\u00a0
Just like her mother.\u00a0
She explains so much.\u00a0
Needlessly.\u00a0
I already forgive her.\u00a0
I wish them the best.\u00a0
I tell her to say thank you to the men who found\u00a0
Her. For me.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sometimes life can be evil.\u00a0
Sometimes life can be terrible.\u00a0
Sometimes life can be lovely.\u00a0
Sometimes life can be backwards.\u00a0
Sometimes life can be broken.\u00a0
But life is always connected.\u00a0<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\nThe Big Apple  I had never expected it to go this far. Not really. But when a prostitute tells you that   she\u2019s been raped by your drug-dealing boss,   you tell her to go home. I thought she was drunk. I thought she would call…\n<\/div>\n
Continue reading “The Big Apple”<\/span>…<\/a><\/div>\n","protected":false},"author":33,"featured_media":0,"parent":5,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"templates\/no-intro.php","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-253","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry","entry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/16-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/253","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/16-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/16-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/16-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/33"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/16-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=253"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/16-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/253\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":382,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/16-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/253\/revisions\/382"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/16-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/5"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/16-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=253"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}