Testo The Minimums Eliza Magill
Six oâclock Friday sees Jacobina walkingDown the dirtier streets
Week-old heels click, dodging sidewalk mess
Impressed in her stride, a twenty-nine year old creed
(Mama first put it there):
Stay away from strangers, sternly said
But things can change
Six oâclock Friday sees Julian wandering up familiar streets
Wrinkled walls donât hide the sky inside
But a house in the slums can be just as defined, aloof and held aloft
As a hilly mansion (rooms filled up with pride)
But things can change
We all know south and south are bound to collide
Itâs no different here on the dank street side
Conversationâs rusty and reeks dimestore
But then they never gave much before
And things can change
So while her rich-girl airs were insufferable
His prejudice was impermeable
Roads and cars dictated maybe views
What can he give me that I donât have?
What can she show me that I donât know?
And what would Mama or downstairs say if they knew?
Someone ought to teach that girl not to abide by the minimums
Someone ought to teach that boy
Possibly, if we pull back superfluous impressions
Minimum expectation may give way
Someone ought to teach that girl not to abide by the minimums
Someone ought to teach that boy not to abide
Not to abide
Not to abide by the minimums
One day, maybe Jac and Ju will say:
Come on in, weâll show you around
The house we built, the house we found