48 Hours in Harlem

it is important; now and then; to venture out.  to go beyond one's comfort zone.  . . . so off to 48 Hours in Harlem i went ---- with a driving rain assist.

rubber boots; umbrella; my Black soul.  that was my trinity.

in a sense [but not officially], i was a VIP.  Erin Cherry, one of the producers invited me.  Ms. Cherry is an actress, yes.  but there was nothing theatrical about her invitation.  she invited me the new-age way --- through Facebook.

Prior to Facebook, she and i had a drink together; accidentally @ a Yale mixer.

why did i bother to go from Southern Brooklyn to Harlem?  Ms. Cherry is a serious thespian.  and i am serious about seeing Black people strut their stuff on stage :

i know a famous; Pulitzer-prize-winning black play-write [right].  her name is Suzan-Lori Parks.  a graduate of my alma mater Mount Holyoke; Ms. Parks still writes with a typewriter escort.

SNAP.  let it roll Sister.

@ 48 Hours in Harlem; Ms . Parks was on my mind.  . . . because of the honesty there --- the straight-up; no nonsense Sense of Being on stage.

Harlem : worth the trip.

Top Dog Under Dog

                           Careful, that stuff is pure ---

 maximally efficient; like my efficiency apartment ----                

                                                                                       padlocked

                       from within --- sustained by a common core --- this

                  common read : Top Dog Under Dog.

                 What chu got?

              Are you locked out; locked up or secure?

Is your hope erect? 

Or,

does the crumbling

reside

somewhere soon?