Downtown...

Walking the concrete trail
past the blocks as they change ethnicity;
the brightly colored boriqua tiendas
giving way to Jamaican aromas,
jerked chicken mingling with curried beef
as the Ganges flows downtown
past the wig shoppe and the record store,
beats blaring from the speakers placed outdoors,
mounted like turrets beneath the yellow awning...
Stray white faces, looking out of place
almost as if they're being chased
with hurried footsteps and worried glances,
chances are they won't come again soon
How is it the poor of each nationality
huddle together in their poverty,
united against the bigotry and the struggle to survive
yet, when they they make something of themselves,
they run as fast as they can from where they began,
almost to a man , forgetting where they came from,
not remembering everyone is no one and someone
at the same time and the climb brings you to heights
to see what lies ahead but we forget, sometimes,
we learn when we look behind...

10-30-11