Poetry: Proxy

Proxy

by Alia Bhimji

I used to be a babysitter.

I made nipples out of mineral things, I spoke in tongues too wide for me

I spent the gold and I spent the silver.

I made tap water turn to TV dinners.

I worked for lead from bunk beds, I bathed them in Epsom sweat and seaweed

I used to be a babysitter.

I used to bring them army stickers.

I made civvies out of buckeye roots, in high altitudes with coca leaves

I spent the gold and the camouflage silver.

I went and shopped for coffee filters.

I would drink like mothers ought to drink, I snuffed the grounds through rolled receipts

I used to be a peoplesitter.

I’d tuck in their gloves when we had our winters.

I’d make them shovel snow for daddy’s praises, he was paying my salary

I spent the gold and the family silver.

I used to be a counterfeiter

I used to be a quick relief

I used to be a babysitter

I took the gold and I took the silver.