Election day (2016) /Loisida Blues
( dedicated to the folks on the lowereast side)
By
Dael Orlandersmith
I live on the lower east
Latin style/it’s pronounced
(LOW-EE-SIDE-AH)
&
Where I live
the streets are filled with
cigarette butts
Paper
Food
Beer /liquor
Soda
Juice
Condoms
Cans
And
Broken glass
Which spill into the gutters
But
On certain days /the jagged glass sparkles like jewels
And
When
the sun hits those broken jewels/ the colors of rainbows are formed
and
as
for the people
there are new old jacks
and
new jacks
the former who’ve roamed the streets
novena beaded w/ bowed heads
or
swaggered to whatever beat that they heard
filling
the street w/ the smells of sofrito
coffee
pernil
bread
made by the strong/soft hands of Spanish/soul
people
and
NOW
The Latter
The new jacks
fairskinned Euro models
NYU kids
and
smells of canned soup
quick pizzas
quiche
wine
and
exotic cigarettes
also
hang in the air
old jacks/new jacks- (at least for the time being ) are standing side by side
and
on my block on Loisida -no matter what time
or
weather ..
There is music
There is
always
MUSIC
IT could be Tito drumming all the way on Avenue C
conjuring
Nuyorican alphabet city gods
who are long gone
from
bebop
and
the strungout
or
Music on avenue B
where
Wayne lives – he’s filling the street w/ Miles and Trane
or
my twenty year-old next door neighbor
who wears a ‘kiss me / I’m dutch/german and Irish’ button
and
wears Kurt Cobain teeshirts while playing Brianjonestownmassacre on her sparse guitar
On Loisida - where I live
There is always SOUND
Different
Necessary
SOUND
Making different / similar sound gumbos
And
There is always MOVEMENT
Some kind of MOVEMENT
Fighting
Dancing
Kissing
Crying
BUT
On Nov 9- it stopped
All movement
All Sound
And
Carla -who makes the best Pasteles on my block
And
Carla
Who always smiles while walking with her baby daughter aptly named Linda-who also always smiles
Had tears streaming down her face
And
Her normal stride had become a shuffle
And
Carla who loves to sing – her voice broke into a wail
And
As
We looked at his -TRUMP’s PICTURE
On a bar television while standing on the street
And
as
We all stood there watching – his face
Thin-lipped
Demonically triumphant
Not fully understanding HOW it happened
On this bar tv
Carla’s Wail so wounding
And
deep
that
it almost/ brought us to our knees…..
BUT
Suddenly
SHE
Arranged
Rearranged herself
Stood up straight
Look at him-TRUMP thru Bar glass
Turned to
Us
Giving us back her smile
The smile we all knew
And
Needed
And
Said ‘ we’ll grieve
We’ll fight
And
Then
We’ll dance
BUT
Most of all
Don’t forget –
Do NOT forget
TO
BREATHE
Just
BREATHE’