They called her a tinker
They ripped her, a slag
Ducked, gloves up
Eyes on the bag
Her home is fire
Smoke through worn teeth
Black eyes, deep blue, protected beneath.
Brawled and rucked
She earned her stripes
They called her a pike
Grabbed helpless under man’s thumb and hand
Not charity for leeches on government land
Failed false by the system, denied
Held back again by a thin blue line.
This is a poem written from a prompt from: https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/20204174/posts/2381680609
The word was “Tinker”. Tinker has a different connotation in Ireland than it tends to have in the US. I worked with students in the Traveller community, teaching literacy in college, it was an eye opening experience to see the level of bigotry that they face.