storm on A st.

Winter is gone and I mean me
I learned not to write of it,
askt instead for speech -- which is power

where it will be,

at the hearing on the 17th,
behind the wood and the face of
old whites, they are pink and white, powerful, as were taught

Mr. Woody, he was a large pink man who sold pretzels for 25 cents each
and said never to lean your head back when you had a nosebleed
because you will choke

I've never had a nosebleed, ever.
Absoposilutely. Sure.

Mr. Woody had a paper cut out of Woody Woodpecker on his office door.
One day I heard he had died.
Pretzels tasted of blood,
children dusted the sidewalks with salt,
blood, itself, salty.
I was salty, even.
Other kids were.
Other kids I knew, who died.

An old man w/ a large tricycle rode us kids up and down the block in his giant basket.
At the end of the block were Cambodians. Rathey and his brother who had all the Zords.
At the other end, Christian, who only pretended to be my friend.

My cousin and I staring
at five or more black kids
who stood on our front lawn.
I don't remember what happened after.
I suppose they finally moved.

One of the only white kids on the block askt for sugar and wrote 'THANKS' w/ it on our front steps.
My mother told me that in the morning, grandpa was sweeping all the ants away.