.25 miles to the former blood alley to take my four year old girl to school.
corner one: I am solicited for money for food.
corner two: I catch sight of a newspaper headline that reads
"US in a Struggle for Civilization"
corner three: Broadway and Wilson. Nothing.
corner four: a bike rider strangely warns us all of "the coming pigeon
shit." He yells out "don't slip there." How kind.
corner five: Right turn down Clifton. The Former blood alley. On my
left is a broken bottle, shards up in the street. No time to pick it up,
I reason. No trash can in sight. Outside her school sit, stand, recline
four persons I see every day. Clients, "housing guests" who live in the
shelter that doubles as my daughter's school. They smoke and chat. I
smile and wish them a good morning. They smile back and return regards
between puffs.
Down the corridor and to the back. Left and past a broken
elevator into the beautiful sanctuary of PreK. I play a little with my
girl and we kiss. She is at home so I leave.
Back into the street. I will be human, I say to myself.
Here more smiles and good mornings.
Back at the sight of the broken glass, an unmarked (though clearly
marked with antennas and plates) police car parks over that broken
glass, though not over the shard yet.
I lean into his open window where he sits with his bullet proof
vest as full as a flotation device and his communication devices all
around, safe from Uptown, Former blood alley Uptown.
"Be careful. There's broken glass there." I point. "Just so you know."
He says thanks.
With that I'm gone. Around the corner. Back the way I came. Satisfied
with myself that I've been human to all.
I cross the intersection where nothing happened, Corner three. A mom
scuffles across the street, hurrying her young son, feeling herself
about to be crushed by a large looking truck, maybe a v10 engine. She
yells with all her might to express her existence. "I'm crossing
here!!!!" She cusses at him miserably in defense and doesn't stop until
she is across the street. She needs more muscle, she feels. Just a mom.
A damn mom in the way of his big engine. She will be heard.
I think of my country's struggle for civilization. My civilization
here--Uptown--resembles for me the same as my country's enemy. (No,
reword that. No, how?)
Here I walk commenting on all I see. As though I'm so important. My
defense against the powers. Up the street, walking my way, is a young
pretty thing that I usually can't bear to gaze upon. I must seem so rude
looking away. I look straight in her eyes and wish a good morning. There
I did it. For this morning I'm not an animal. I am civilized.
God save us all in Uptown. In our weakened place of Abandoned Empire. We
are not the pride of US civilization, but. . . . and I can only speak
for myself, there is a God greater than us all. Sometimes our surrender
to His will makes us truly human.
1 comment:
Chris, this is beautiful. Thank you.
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