FORE APRIL NINETEEN SIXTY EIGHT...

FORE APRIL 1968...
A dark hall of a concrete and steel building. Doors slamming. Lights blinking on and off. People screaming, the smell of smoke. Bouncing up and down on the hip of a woman. Trying to hold on to her shoulder breast or hair. Down the steps. Hands too small...Legs wrapped around her waist. I can not hold on but she continues to move through the building. She has one arm wrapped around my back constantly adjusting my position with the other. Am I holding on to her or Is she carrying me? What is going on? Outside dark too! Now cool warm air. Put me down. I want to walk or run myself. Why are we here. Playground is over there. Where are we going? THE PLAYGROUND IS OVA THERE! Everyone moving diligently or just running around. Hey is that a clown? It seems to be. Crying now from the scary face and all the rapid movement and sounds. Siren...Siren. Siren the tug boat air horns blast so loud, fire trucks, ambulance, police car. I like them. I hear dogs barking...barking like a mist on the wind. What has happened? I can not see. Just people running around screaming. Big people I see and I feel bumping into me. A big person but not as big as the lady who is carrying me, ran by saying the king is dead...the king is dead. What is the King. I don't know. Dey blocking the bridge. Dey blocking the bridge. Tanks blocking the Muthafuckin bridge. We can not go. What’s a tank? What's a bridge? Crying again. Now she crying too. I think? Or is that some thing else under her eyes and down her chin? I don't know... Really I don’t know anything. Now a man takes me from her hip. I don’t want to go. I fight a little but I am not in control. Not falling any more but the movement is the same. However it is hard to breath. He's squeezing me! I’m little and the ground is so far down now. Not holding on any more just looking for her. Where she at? Der she is. He holding her too. But see moving right beside him I’m still looking for her eyes but they looking to the sky. Is GOD coming? People moving around still screaming and hollering. Das fucked up...Das fucked up...Dey done killed him! A bright light around the bend...It’s a hot light... Like the one in that box in the kitchen. But it don’t smell good. I want to eat. Crying again! For heavens sake! What has happened they have sticks, bricks and bottles. Crying again...I want some water. Why we leave the house? I want to go home. Enough of the smoke and hot light, sirens and screaming and hollering. I wake up to a clear day. But the smoke has not gone away. There is no more screams and no more hollering but the TV show is not on cartoons...It's the white man that always talking. "And that's the way it was" he said...I want to see Sesame Street, Mr. Rogers or The Electric Company!