A RIDE THROUGH

In the shade of Harlem the Character stormed by,
Through my bus window my eyes seemed saddened by
Children trampling in the decaying neighborhood,
As filthy skid row bums sipped their tasty suicide,
One, I filled my frame with more sorrow for,
His eyes glowed like that of a feasting raven surfing a kitten’s blood,
They seemed to be embedded in the polluted grounds,
With those thirsty eyes his body prayed for dusty death,
Through three stalked windows,
I saw him drifting to a “n*gger” hell.
The bus pushed on,
My pupils watched him and all this sad reality,
Fading sadly in Harlem’s dirty mist.

Theodore Arthur Pinnock
April 5, 1980