There was a kid in front of our building with a smile that
left the borders of his face when he saw me return from The City of Angels or,
in Spanish, Los Angeles.
His name was Alvin and he was featured in a Daily News list
of children taken away by illegal guns. I was at my drawing table when I heard
the gunshots.
I saw lightning flashes because we were connected by blood.
I bolted up the block and made my way through the crowd that
screamed God and Jesus in the same breath as they were parted by Blue Angels
like Moses did The Red Sea.
I looked into the eyes of a police officer and he let me
through to see Alvin’s hand fall off a gurney near to cracked concrete. I aged
thousands of years from grief that cold night.
Every movie about
super heroes got bitch slapped by The City That Never Sleeps.
Yet I dream of seeing my little brother again.
Yet I dream of making him smile again
It’s now my turn to bitch slap Reality.
No more Waiting For Super Man
Murals For Ourselves In The South Bronx of America
By Danny Aponte of P.S 161
Copyrighted 2014
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