Pipo often talked about fallen friends, their final, frozen, empty vision, almost as if he were feeling his own demise. He was close to and a cousin of Fanfan the Savage, but he was not an active gang member, and should never have died.
The Rule of Engagement, along with the coat and tie dress code, was one of the university’s two unbreakable traditions. It involved saying “Hi!” to everyone you encountered, or – if that person were first to greet you – responding in kind. I was taken aback at first, not so much by the idea of saying hello to a stranger crossing campus, but by the mindset that required me to say it, and say it, and say it again, all day long, no matter my mood and no matter who it was coming up alongside me.
I was not afraid. I’d grown used to the sound of guns. I grew up in this Cité where there’s never been a truce, where death does the rounds at noon just … Continue reading →
Here, in a small rosewood box
lined with silver satin,
your locket still attached
to a closed gold chain.
The courtyard’s chestnut tree,
already shedding leaves
in dulcet sunset heat,
stands tall and grieves.
Come breathe with me the sidewalk scents and
exhale into the night my erratic soul.
Think back, some day,
to this dismembered city,
its sounds, squalor and dolor.
I knocked at your door,
I knocked at your heart,
looking for a good bed,
looking for a good fire.