going to the apollo
so

i'm cheating a little bit. i ahve to write a "brief exchange" and i'm distracting myself by looking back through old things that i've written...

and i found this one. which i like. it was fun. i like the who is fantasizing who bits.

We're down south and it's 125 blocks to freedom. 125 blocks till night falls 125 blocks until the lights go out 125 blocks until the stage is ours 125 blocks and we're home. 125 blocks and we are the moon and the stars and we're going to land on the Apollo. We've got 125 blocks to go and we're holding hands. I'm white and she's Jamaican and we're holding hands because we've got 125 blocks to go and we're color blind against the sidewalk, from down south to west 125^th street, And he's white and she's Chinese, and he's black and she's white and color blind doesn't mean shit because you're always thinking how beautiful you are. And it's 125 blocks until the lights go down and the way our sweat looks on our faces under the lights and WHO IS FANTISIZING WHO on the moon landing on west 125^th street in the summer time. WHO is fantasizing who when we lie in bed and 125 blocks away there black porcelain toilets and a man who doesn't know your name offering you a towel and 125 blocks away there are white porcelain toilets and men who will treat the man at the door like a towel, they will ignore, use, and discard and we're down south 125 blocks to go and the middle is dangerous territory but at least we have each other, fantasizing. 125 blocks. On foot at least.

            125 blocks except now we can fly. 125 blocks and we're on the express train uptown. Uptown underground we have wings and we're flying too close to the sun, and people are telling us to stop, stop, but it's only 125 blocks so we think we can do it. 125 blocks and we're the shit. We've got our "new york city" duds on and we're gonna blowwww it up because we came from soho through the village through the upper east side and we're in harlem, we're the renaissance because we're so colorful that we explode onto the walls and the ceiling. Because in thinking we're beautiful we're flying too close to the sun like who is fantasizing 125 blocks who 125 blocks is fantasizing white and black and 125 blocks who is fantasizing who.