13,858. 100 DISTANT LATITUDES

100 DISTANT LATITUDES

I first took a distant train to normal 

places a long, long time ago. My hands

were in my gloves and it was 10-below.

Some black boy in a Malcolm X suit

and tie was trying to sell me bottled

water and a pie. This is true. In old

Philadelphia, right outside the old 

Divine Lorraine Hotel at 699 North

Broad. I bit, and I bought.

-

Everything there was always in a

fir  -  crumbling an falling down,

so I took a chance. The MOVE

House was already long gone,

at 6221 Osage Ave. (I love such

numbers), and the only thing left

were a few crumbly walls and a 

few outrageous signs. Who knew

you could cuss the cops and life!

-

The pie was pecan. Not too big,

for 7 dollars then, but I didn't

really feel cheated. Except, I

thought, they were making a 

parody somehow of their own

Southern past. Selling a Georgia

Pecan Pie in a Malcolm X suit

and tie. Tophat too! None of

it seemed to fit, but I'm the

suspicious sort, I admit.

-

Now, things can be chortled at

and ridiculed, yes. But dead bodies

in a bombed house from the sky,

black babies too and families

blown high. I walked away

some more, and wondered 

'why?'