Twenty eight degrees
The whipping winter wind
Spanking my backside like daddy’s hands
When I used to cut up in church
During long ago Sunday morning services
So
We hip-hopped along Market Street
"No brother
I don’t need a Rolex today"
Smiling
Noticing the distinct sound and smell of salsa from side street vendors
A wave of the hand
A polite dismissal to the well dressed men making their final calls
"No brother
I ain’t got time to discuss the state of the black man today
But gimme a rain check"
Teenagers huddled by the bus stop
Bouncing to the beat of indistinguishable lyrics and bass lines
Thumbing through the racks of clothing
The music pumping so loudly
Price tags reverberating on my fingertips
"Special price today
You buy… you buy...!"
And we spent
And we bought
Eating at John’s Place
So full of soul food
Couldn’t tell our Wright Streets from our Frelinghuysens
But we did get everything we wanted
A variety of things to choose from
And the prices weren’t bad
Thirty one degrees
Hallelujah!
Our car is still where we left it
As she smiles
I watch for stray children jay-running from between parked cars
Turning up the volume
I head towards home
A satisfied customer
Head bouncing
Hip-hoppin
Done my Chrismas shoppin’
In the Brick City