1bigblackblog

READING THROUGH
ROSE COLORED GLASSES


diversity and multiculturalism is to be
acknowledged and celebrated in the
unified school district. ending her talk
the speaker asks if there are comments
or questions

there are. many

first this community, then that ethnic group protests
that it isn't right or fair or even cricket.
with rising passion, claims of this and accusations
of that are hurled about. everyone and every group
feels the goring of their own ox

i decide to leave

rising from my seat, exiting the community room,
down the hall, out double glass doors,
onto the street, olympic boulevard and
though now evening, i keep on my sunglasses.
after looking down the street and placing
half a stick of chewing gum in my mouth,
i right turn and walk northward

at the first corner there are five, maybe six people
gathered beside a large chromed metal cart.
heaps of onions are grilling. plump reddish sausages
wrapped in blankets of bacon are frying. garlic, too

the aroma

the vendor briefly places a hot dog bun, face down,
onto the grill. it frys in the liquid of the onions and
bacon and sausages.the bun is transfered from grill
to hand to paper holder after which a bacon encased
sausage is placed on it followed by a generous squirt
of mayo and cheez-whiz

yum. but not tonight

elm avenue, oak street, and pine court are crossed,
as is cedar lane. right before evergreen circle and
next to a beauty shop with a window banner saying
100% INDIAN TRESSES, NO HORSE HAIR HERE!
is a coffeehouse. tonight is "open mic" night

i enter

inside there's a dozen or so young and youngish
woman and men. a tall guy, thin and kitted out
in a black hoodie and levis is emoting a poem.
he says it's rimbaud. i order a black coffee
and sign up for the mic

later, after reciting "The Expanding Existentialism's
Impact On The Inner-Mounted Flame", an original,
i return to my seat, a small table with two wooden
chairs near a rear wall. minutes into mulling over
my performance, a woman with thick and very long
black hair and a youngish soft round face wearing
a pair of black framed glasses sits opposite me

having first placed a cup of coffee on the table, she,
now seated, reaches for a container of cream,
pours some into the cup, stirs it around a couple
of times, looks at me for a moment then says,
"that's odd. that's odd you'd wear dark glasses
in a coffeehouse. at night.
what are you hiding from?"

"what are you hiding from behind those
rose colored glasses?"

her demeanor and clothing suggest a hip place.
a place both hip and cosmopolitan with a
cosmopolitan and hip name like tel aviv or tehran.
i thought a bit of an answer. one that might open
the gate to the garden of heavenly delights

slowly and with great expectation, i tell of a visit
to paris many years ago. two senegalese college
students had befriended me and we were walking
to a bar in the university district.my new friends
said there were girls from the countryside who
are loads of fun. we could pickup several and
go to my hotel room as they live in a dorm
with little privacy

we all wore dark glasses as that would make us
look even cooler and hipper than we already were.
it seems french provincial girls like that sort of thing.
also, they, my new friends,would do all the talking

crazy daddy-o, let's go!

so go we went and there we were and they did
do all the talking and all i can say is

"VIVA LE FRANCE!"

a small smile appears on the woman's face as
she considers my words. "an interesting story.
and a well told tale", she finally says.
"do you have anymore? i'm free for the evening
and live nearby".