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poetry Janie

Drawing on her many years working in human rights and public health, poet Mary Ann Castle offers a portrait of a woman whose homelessness is a form of suffering but also an occasion of enlightenment.

In a 56th Street doorway empty storefront
lives Janie
stroking the mosaic
entrance floor
 

getting ready for night life
legs stretched out straight black skirt
glitter-pink
nail polish,
matted
beehive hair
 

arranging, rearranging black
garbage bags
encircling her
like prophetic oak leaves
in that ancient 
cave mouth

 

tourist-guy approaches,
stares
What is this apparition—
broke, strung out
man, woman,
hijra?
 

suddenly, a proud Cumaean Sibyl,
Janie shakes her
blondish wig
runs a finger slowly
across the stubble
above her upper lip
slips
         into a trance—
what is her story?
what are her memories?
what is life lived in a doorway?
 

Janie,
once beautiful transvestite,
queen
of downtown piers—
mutters
words of mystery and
dread 

Mary Ann Castle’s poems have been published in progressive journals, such as Blue Collar Review and Madness [& Capitalism] (in World Poetry Movement).  She has been a social anthropologist with almost 50 years of experience conducting applied research and evaluation in human rights, reproductive health care, public health, and anti-poverty in the United States, India, and Africa. 

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