I Caution Your Expectations of Me
By Ruth Hill

I have depended on the mercies of sinners
and never had the privilege
of quality characters in my life

the fishing trips were with a child molester
horseback riding was with horse thieves
fast cars were driven by fast men
I didn‘t want to be with

that exciting sneak onto the library roof
turned out to be a trap, a flash mob
we were all arrested with bullhorns
on the news in helicopter spotlights

that paid trip to Niagara was stopped at the border
no one told me why they wouldn’t let him cross
and a visit with the queen was last minute
canceled due to someone’s domestic assault

the interview at Columbia with my artwork
waiting on the steps for sunrise
was overrun by anti-‘Nam protestors
I was tear-gassed and my portfolio lost

a fishing boat I hired to move my things
sank before it got there; a pothead left more
in another house, another time

the only job I could find was in a crew truck
driver without a license, drunk and stoned
I was several times left in the woods
I was child-locked and hot-boxed
they put Quaaludes in my crew lunch
I woke up in a hospital

though many tell me
my lack of success is my fault
the lowering of standards
of other people’s behaviors
has always been an impediment
to anyone wishing to improve