The
African-American kids upstairs began their usual stampede at 6 AM on
10/27/14.
On Father’s Day,
I woke up to find myself in the kitchen walking on water like Jesus on
Television. They left the faucet running again. Again, I empty pots and wait for
the Dominican super to show up to knock and bang on the door upstairs until it
reveals a bleary-eyed black woman Welfare had taken out of homeless shelter
with her kids and into building my disabled mother has lived in since Watergate
Scandal of the 1970s.
Calmly and with
consideration to the black woman’s problems, I asked again for a reduction on
noise pollution. No apology was offered as she closed the door with her last
words: I forgot to close the faucet.
The super once
caught her husband smoke marijuana in the hallway of graffiti that grew like
toxic mold on bathroom walls. He disrespected the super as he did me when I
talked to his blood-shot eyes about respecting my mother’s rights as a tenant.
I feared if I made a call to 311 he might retaliate by hurting or killing my
mother.
No matter how
patiently I addressed a jobless black man he kept pulling the pin on the
grenade of confrontation to make himself feel like a man with power.
Swastikas cannot
be made without black and white.
Again, I pleaded
for mercy on behalf of my mother who has several appointments at Lincoln
Hospital after an examination for breast Cancer. I saw in his eyes Apartheid
appear like a possible case
of Ebola in a
5-year old in The Bronx.
What happens to his children in this poorly designed
anti-poverty program?
Do the kids become another crop of criminals to be harvested
by bullets and illegal chokeholds? Across the river from this homeless shelter
of a neighborhood is the halfway house called Riker’s Island Prison. Across
this homeless shelter is a funeral home. There is higher education up the block
called The Public Library.
Read three ways to leave The City of Illegal Guns and Roses.
I know the road to hell is paved with many good intentions
but it would be a good try to get the mayor’s wife to give counseling to that
family in The South Bronx of America.
This would be Pre-K homework far from finished
Welcome to The United Selfies of Admerica
Art Design & Text By Daniel Angel Aponte
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