When my locs and I agreed to never part, I never knew love would set in and seal that deal tight. Following my return to college with my new do in Tañyi [Fall] 2011 Frank and I began a courtship of the highly unconventional sort.
And from that dance we did all about those chilly montañas came a forever calendar—my locs.
For more about my love life visit Frank & Egypt over at EgyptEnglish.com
breath, cold fog. 44th street.
underneath the scaffolding. we run. Just 3 petals falling faster than the others off a wet black
NYPD. No one knows for sure the answers to our questions. They all just keep pointing
us further and further away from the great sparkly spear. Telling us we won’t we can’t
make it. All the roads are closing. At 47th Officer Mike said “if you run . . .
you just might see it” — a photo op for our bucket list, so it’s not fuck all the police
and further we run. 54th street.
Barricades we don’t run right through ‘em. Shift left, shift right, underneath support beams,
ladders anybody superstitious yet? We scream for a friend that doesn’t exist.
Makes us look like we have purpose.
59th we made it? It’s still—open. But full of faces, some don’t like that we’re impatient
Some don’t like that we won’t wait. Many don’t get that we’re on a mission—
that’s not impossible?
They refuse to understand some part of us is better than what we’re seen in passing on the
streets. They don’t get that we
don’t care about what some don’t comprehend. Cause the little liberty in front of the
Rockefeller tree never gave us anything in our dreams. Just false hopes from a vision that was
always unclear. And here we were chasing another.
A chance of a lifetime . . . one to see a giant orb. Fall for what? Havoc! Cause
that’s what we’re reeking of. “Officer! She has asthma . . . we have to get 4 blocks down”
Fuck him he’s in our way, taking up valuable time. So we run, before he can think to stop
us. we jump. Leaving our wretched stench on the other side of fence number 4
On 7th street in the midst of thousands of people we saw. it. In all its vim and vigor. Zoom
is a marvelous creation. All that looks glorious . . . clearly just knows where to shop.
The countdown began. 10
8, 7. . .We got lost.
Lost in the numbers. The voices.
Never saw the shiny marble
drop. and it was over. But for a second,
back at fence three,
we swore we heard Lady Liberty snickering through the streets as we laughed. (more…)