New York New York.
I’ve been to New York many times now over the years, but this was my second time and I wanted to see the Bronx. I was stopped at the first attempt by two policemen who said I was mad and would get myself killed, undismayed I was more surreptitious and made my way there alone, ’80’s New York was a dangerous place to be, but for sure to be a white man walking amongst those people of colour would be dangerous, and ill advised, having PTSD risk taking came naturally. But this is exactly what transpired. For those that don’t know… snow is cocaine, and PCP is a very nasty drug also called Angel Dust.
One thing that stood out, wherever I went in the states, African Americans couldn’t perceive that an Englishman could be a racist, that belief got me out of trouble a few times.
New York New York 1980
Leaving the noise of yellow cabs
Touting for business
In poisonous fume filled ghetto
Egyptian American driver
“Here”
But not here
They say and stare
“Not here. Idiot”.
“Not here man”.
Stumbling life blind
Through the mists
And through the twists
And breathing the stinking air
Fetid furious oxygen theft
Buildings covered in art
1980 New York.
Loving the risk
And feeling filth kissed
Forlorn feet
On a forlorn street
Where people are so much meat
And schools have metal detectors
But no books.
“Fucking motherfucker”
“What ya want here”
“white cocksucker”
So I saw their pain
Pain in their brain
And the glowing graffiti
And big hair
And felt their disdain
In the sour rain
That fell like
Astral pain
Pain in my brain
A spiritual stain
To run in gutters
Full of shit
And used Durex
As whores cavorted
In lurid lurex.
And pimps pimped their beat
Gun……….
‘Hey fucker’ harsh greet
“Whats a white boy
Doing on my street
Your a stupid cocksucker
Give me your shoes”
“No no I’m English
And I’m not here
to take the piss
I wanted to see where you live
And hear the music
And I’m not scared.
And your fucking shoes are better then mine”
“English? Man thats cool.”
But in the eighties Bronx
Your still a fool.
But your my fool now
So come down here.
Meet my boys and have a beer.
You want some PCP?
Laughter from the boys…
“These English fuckers all drink tea”
So instead of Angels
we settled on snow
And some mighty weed
They gave me chicken
And burgers and music
And bashed my ears with hate
For where they were
And swore down death to pigs.
And showed me guns and shivs
Business opportunities,
Tools of their street
And we became lovers
I showed them Linton Kwezi
And Prince Buster
And they knew I was English
And couldn’t be a racist
Which was a massive lie that
I never disabused
And when the time came
They walked me safe from
The broken spot and taught me
Things, patterns with their hands
Although we were mates and lovers
I knew I couldn’t live there
In the fear, filth and fury
But later I was laughed at in bars
Full of white sophistication.
And I was called insane
Because all those niggers will kill you man
And the parting words as I left the bar
“Nigger lover”!
And really right there
Finally then
Surrounded by white intelligent education
I understood the guns and the shivs.
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