Nation Building In America
Water came down from the apartment upstairs where a black
woman and her five kids were moved into out of a homeless shelter. As usual,
the stampede of feet across the ceiling woke me. It’s like having a daycare
center over a public library. I went to make breakfast on Father’s Day and
walked on water like Jesus on the face of a kitchen clock.
I looked up and saw that kids know not what they do.
The mindless running around was a cry for Child Protection
Services. If unsupervised kids left faucets running than who’s to stop them
from turning on the gas oven? I wanted to call the police but instead got the
superintendent. The knocks on apt 11 B began to bang like a semi-automatic
until the door opened up.
Without an apology and almost annoyed to be bothered by
Hispanics, she said she forgot to turn of the faucet. In spite of a polite
request for her to keep down the noise level of her children, the non-stop
stomping actually became more violent.
The water damage brought part of the ceiling down, wet sheet
rock shattered.
It could have killed my disabled mother.
Lincoln Hospital called me on her health and then knocks on
the door from a Dominican who has been offering IRS tax-free money like cheese
to mice and men unemployed due to lack of 21 Century job skills. It was money to get us to give up a rent
controlled hellish apartment Paradise Management won’t repair in the South
Bronx of America.
Life could be worse.
Riker’s Island Prison is across the river and the funeral
parlor is across the street in this neighborhood, a mother of homeless
shelters. Children are seeds for the future and some without Pre K are just
another crop of criminals soon to be harvested by NYPD.
I felt quiet despair scream for truth, justice and the comic
books or The American Way.
To Be Young, Gifted And Black was a song Hispanic children
had to sing in the auditorium of P.S 161 on Tinton Avenue. If African America students
had to sing to be Young, Gifted And Puerto Rican it would have lessen a sense
of separatism, of Apartheid. I write that because most of the homeless moved
into the building are black that treats longtime Hispanic tenants as if they
were invisible like the God worshiped by an all black church up the street.
This is progress Martin Luther King marched for?
This is the future?
Is Evolution for
white people who enjoyed Planet Of The Apes? I saw that movie in my childhood
at an ancient theater that used to belong to the 1% and middleclass but decades
later taken over by blacks that clouded atmosphere with marijuana cigarettes
and how their lips embraced Mr. Boston and Old English 500 like 42 Street was
The Cotton Club.
They went silent like Katherina before it hit New Orleans
when they saw how familiar the chimps were. There was going to be a riot with
black people attacking Hispanics as the next best thing to punching out white
people that produced a movie that made apes out of African-Americans. A black
man from the balcony saved the day when he shouted, “Yo, Tyrone, there goes
your mother!” The roof of the theater blew off.
Laugher is the beginning of faith for We, The People.
I have a dream for the city that never sleeps.
Make God Smile.
To Sleep, Perchance To Pitch Nightmares To DreamWorks: Real
Life Comic Book Cyber Journal Of The Better Angels Of Our Nature By Danny
Aponte of P.S 161
Chapter One: It was a dark and stormy knight of Jedi
journalism
