12th Street and main was the capital of chill. It was the seventh layer of lost souls. The holy land for people seeking their own personal grail. I’ve been told that those who live there are bohemians, dandies, bobos, beatniks and hippies but I don’t really know what those things are. The only thing I … Continue reading Chapter 12
Chapter 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1
I found Saul speaking in tongues to a crack addict in a back alley in Philly. Barely recognized him. He had grown, or more accurately neglected to shave, a long dreadlocked, dirt filled beard. His eyes where blood-shot like a coke head on a Friday night. He was hunched over a fire on the … Continue reading Chapter 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1
Chapter 10
I met Saul on a trolley in San Francisco. He was with some girl named Lola who was a handful. They were drunk without alcohol with their crazy love. They were cuddling and joking loudly and blissfully unaware of all the Asian tourist eagerly snapping photos of the young lovers. Saul was dressed like new … Continue reading Chapter 10
Chapter Nine
Fear can hold you prisoner And Hope can set you free So pray for me As I runway Following whispers on the wind sweet syllables in my mind: Runway son runaway Somewhere, there is a space for me; a place for me, to die. Death coming gently, singing softly to my soul: Runaway son … Continue reading Chapter Nine
A Culture Of White Violence
This is an interesting video I found: http://video.msnbc.msn.com/all-in-/52626752#52626752 I find that it is a pretty good satire on how we talk about violence and race in America. I think it is especially interesting to see in conjunction with this article by Tim Wise: http://www.timwise.org/2013/08/whats-the-matter-with-white-people-a-modest-call-for-personal-responsibility/#more-3293 As I young Black man in Chicago, I have to … Continue reading A Culture Of White Violence
Philly
Oh man, Saul was Jazz just jazz we’re talking Miles Davis highlight high life big city slickers cool cat he was down for anything up for anything we met in a back alley in Boston like five minuets ago Maybe more than 5 mins like like 3 years ago even Yeah three years ago Jazz … Continue reading Philly
The Chapter I Try To Forget
Saul was the love of my life. We met at a writer’s colony outside Dallas Texas right after my junior year in college. It was an annual summer long conference for aspiring young writers and we were in the same open critique group. The first thing I remember was a piece that he had written … Continue reading The Chapter I Try To Forget
Their Culture Is Capitialism
They complained about the cold with a rare Chicagoan honesty. When the wind hits their faces and seeps through every orifice and pore to settle slowly into their bones they are broad shouldered and husky folk poets. So proud to be clear eyed and laughing. So proud to live where the freight-handlers daughter used to … Continue reading Their Culture Is Capitialism
# Back Of The Book
A man comes undone Fake: The absence of substance -The abyss- I’m a Wasteland of An American Tragedy Run amiss Societies questioning me While I’m pleading the fifth Grasping the truth in the mist I ‘m running from life Like it stabbed me in the lungs wit’ a knife Gasping bloody breaths As … Continue reading # Back Of The Book
The Fifth Chapter
I remember when I first saw him. He had such a magnetic personality. We were on a grey hound bus going from New York to San Francisco. He was possibly the happiest person I had ever met. He was the type of person who you meet and find your self dying to know what their … Continue reading The Fifth Chapter
The Well Examined Life 