Pam Ward – Bridge Over Troubled Waters

 

About Pam Ward

About Pam Ward

A UCLA graduate and recipient of a California Arts Council Fellow in Literature and New Letters Literary Award, she has had her poetry published in  Scream When you Burn, Grand Passion, Calyx, Catch the Fire, and the newly released, Voices from Leimert Park. Pam operates her own graphic design studio, Ward Graphics as well as runs her own publishing house, Short Dress Press. Her first novel, Want Some, Get Some, comes out on Kensington Books, February 2007. Pam has edited five anthologies including, Picasso’s Mistress, What the Body Remembers, and The Supergirls Handbook: A Survival Guide. She has had short stories printed in The Best American Erotica, Men We Cherish, and Gynomite. As an artist-in-resident for the City of Los Angeles and the City of Manhattan Beach, Pam also served as a board member for Beyond Baroque Literary Arts Foundation and has worked for many community arts and social/health organizations, including Black Women for Wellness, Summit on Gang Violence and Art Center College of Design.  Currently, Pam Ward is working on her third novel, Between Good Men & No Man at All.

Bridge Over Troubled Water

© Pam Ward 2015

Did I Forget to say


Yesterday when the cash


was all blown


and the check didn’t come through


and my ball point wept it’s last blue


Did I forget to tell you


while shuffling through


a kaleidoscope of slick


Hoping for a Get Out Of Jail Free card


and gettin’ stacks of Past Dues instead


Looking for anything


to keep the change-the-locks nightmare away 


Did I forget

while I was hustling


to keep the wolves off my back


to keep the hit man at bay


to keep from drowning in the abyss


wondering if


wondering where, why and when


Did I forget to tell you


while searching my unfaithful purse


Cursing the bill collector


or bra-beating my ex


That yes
I’ve known Aprils


and apricot moons


and I’ve bathed in your natural


spring waters at dawn


and I’ve worn dresses


as gold as a pawnbroker’s smile


and I’ve known mornings


and the radio playing


and the tang of green curry


because even if I forget to say


you know, dear


you know


you and I


have both always known.

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