I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

"What you looking at me for?

I didn't come to stay..."

I hadn't so much forgot as I couldn't bring myself to remember.

Other things were more important

"What you looking at me for?

I didn't come to stay..."

Whether I could remember the rest of the poem or not was immaterial. The truth of the statement was like a waded-up handkerchief, sopping wet in my fists, and the sooner they accepted it the quicker I could let my hands open and the air would cool my palms.

"What you looking at me for...?

The children's section of the Colored Methodist Episcopal Church was wiggling and giggling over my well-known forgetfulness.

The dress I wore was lavender taffeta, and each time I breathed it rustled, and now that I was sucking in air to breathe out shame it sounded like crepe paper on the back of hearses.

(...)

"Yo sé por qué canta el pájaro enjaulado"

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