landlord
Granny said the lord going to bless us
Next day, the landlord evicted us
Never seen my mom fold
That day I saw her
Fold clothes
Fold her hands in prayers
Folds under her eyes
I
Folded myself inside of myself
Packed all I cared about inside myself
As we went to a place we said we never go
No where
Know where I packed my feelings?
Into baggage I carry
Til this day
ARTIST STATEMENT
I wrote this poem because we’ve normalized displacing people so deeply that we no longer recognize eviction as an act of violence. We treat unhoused people as if they are the danger, instead of naming the systems that create the conditions that push people out of their homes.
When my mom was evicted, I was too young to fully understand the politics behind it, but I understood enough to know it wasn’t right. We had moved so many times, and she promised this would be the last. When we had to move again, a knot formed in my chest that never fully untied. My granny made a way for us, but that moment became a core memory—the kind you carry into adulthood even when you think you’ve outgrown it.
When I say, “baggage I carry / Til this day,” I mean it literally. As an adult, I’ve spent time unhoused and in transition. I’ve couch-surfed. I’ve rented rooms. I’ve eaten oatmeal for breakfast, lunch, and dinner just to afford shelter. I’ve lived in places that were dangerous, but still safer than the alternatives. That fear of losing housing has never left me.
Even now, as a homeowner, I feel closer to people who are unhoused than to anyone with wealth or security. I know how quickly one emergency, one missed paycheck, one crisis can collapse everything. The knots I had in my stomach as a child are the same ones I’ve felt as an adult.
That’s why I write about this. Because I have more in common with people who are unhoused than with anyone who has never had to fear becoming unhoused. For some, eviction is just a headline; for others, it’s a lived experience that shapes every decision, every fear, and every prayer.
This poem is about a moment from my childhood that has never left me—a moment that grew with me, followed me, and still shapes how I understand safety, home, and the violence of displacement.
Editor’s note: This poem was originally published in the New Haven Independent. The recorded version above was created for Shelterforce.
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2 thoughts on “Poem: Landlord”
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This poem is so powerful because it shows the kinds of things you have to do to cope with life, some are visible and might change day by day (packing, praying), some are invisible and stay with you your whole life (those memories and feelings, the baggage you fold inside yourself, that become part of yourself). All are part of our survival and experiences. Thank you for this, LindoYes.
Thank you so much! This poem came from a tender place. Truly value you taking the time to write this.