The High and Mighty, poem by Douglas A Holiday

Could you see the hospital from your perch
even though the windows might have been
fogged over from winter’s frost, could you
see Metropolitan Hospital’s façade
did you know that she would be heading that
way in January

You knew about that daughter of yours, my mother,
And what she was doing just about every two years,
didn’t you,
and you wouldn’t put a stop to it,
you refused to help your grandchildren,
but you helped to condone the abuse by denying your own kin,
claiming to be too weak to help,
but strong enough for welfare and handouts
while you resided in high-rises on Central Park West,
looking down on the lower classes and helpless infants

You knew she was abusing me,
leaving me to strangers to fend for myself
for nearly eight months while you and grandpa
sat high up over Central Park West,
could maybe even see her building
and the two of you knew what she was doing,
what she had done and you condoned that,
lying to the welfare people
that you did not approve but you did nothing after
the first one was born,
or the second one was born,
or the third one was born
or the fourth one was born
or the fifth one, me, was born
or the sixth one was born
or even if others were born
after she took up with the superintendent
over at 254 on West 112th street
after giving my father two sons,
sons that he would deny paternity for,
so that his parents, my other grandparents,
would not know about us and would
not have to come down from their high-rise
buildings and claim us

Were the two of you grandparents
to the other daughter’s children,
my cousins, if she had any, did you
pick and choose, selecting which daughter
to be kind to and which to deny,
did you tell the other daughter not to
give you grandchildren because
you claimed to be too tired and too weak from
watching and condoning what the
older one, my mother, was doing
and there was nothing either of you
could or would or felt you should do
for any of your grandchildren
did you pick and choose, like the high and mighty do;
later, did the other daughter give you grandchildren
to help feed and clothe
and buy presents for and love
and to walk hand in hand
around Central Park West with
while six other grandchildren
were given away to strangers
to be adopted and abused

So, I have no parents and no grandparents
because everyone wanted welfare from the
state but could care less about the welfare
of infants and sons and grandchildren,
wanting to feel high and mighty over the others
pacing back and forth along Central Park West