“Feel Klaudia Leaves” fromwww.tituspowell.com
WHO IS HE???
He’s my father!!!
WHO IS HE???
He’s my Uncle!!!
WHO IS HE???
He’s my father!!!
WHO IS HE???
He’s my Uncle!!!
On a warm summer evening, a visitor begins pulling out of the parking lot of a cheap motel. The black top is breaking up into chunks and disintegrating into a dark gravel. The 1940’s motel is low and wide, a single-story building of dirty yellow brick, with ugly dark brown doors hiding the desperation within.
One door is open, yet the light of the early eve fails to penetrate the room’s darkness. A woman can be seen heating noodles on a single electric element, supper for her 4-year-old son. It is a quiet evening. The departing visitor takes care not to disturb the calm of the moment.
The woman is 25-years-old with big blue eyes and blond hair falling to her back. Her body is womanly and her breasts are full. Angel is the sweetest and most laid-back chick on this planet, in spite of having love relationships only with men who beat her. Her milky white skin is unblemished save for the tattoos naming the black man to whom she is dedicated,
the man who fathered her son,
the man who returns to take her earnings,
the man who beats her regularly.
Months pass, and it is now Thanksgiving. The blacktop is still there, still crumbling, but now it is a cold Chicago morn. The sky is overcast and is a deep grey, matching the mood within. That same visitor calls to ensure that she and her son have a Thanksgiving meal today, and the phone is answered with quiet sobbing.
Visitor: “What’s wrong, honey?”
Angel: “My weekly rent was due two days ago.”
“I have no money.”
“We have nowhere to go for Thanksgiving today.”
“I’m worried about my new baby due in three months.”
Angel loves her chocolate white, and her men chocolate. Her new baby is due February 22, 2008. The baby is the product of a five-day romance with a black guy who tells her that the baby is her problem. She should have used protection.
Did Angel ever have a chance in this life?
Angel’s mother’s much older brother started having sex with his own sister when she was 8 years old. At age 18, Angel’s mother was pregnant by her own brother.
Angel came into this world 25 years ago, the product of a brother and sister. Her mom is now a crack-and-heroin addicted streetwalker in Angel’s home State of Kentucky. Her father/uncle is not in contact and is not in Angel’s life.
Pedophiles continue in Angel’s life, for she was molested by a non-family member beginning at age 6. It continued for some time. The scum molested many others and Angel testified at his trial for molesting someone else when she was 11. The scum served 13 years and was released a year ago.
After Thanksgiving dinner today, the driver stops at a convenience store to get Angel her cigarettes. The four-year-old does not get many treats, as mom is generally broke. When entering a convenience store, he starts screaming with joy as he runs around securing a frozen soda, gum, candy, and junk food. The poor white clerks frown and look sullen as they leave their position behind the counter to watch this kid, black to them, half-black in reality.
As his mom is buckling him into the rear seat of an extended-length cabin, he stares at the wood, the leather, and then smiles, looking the driver straight in the eye, exclaiming “I feel great!!!” He and the driver bonded at that moment.
Returning to the room in the twilight, the blacktop is now even colder, the room even darker. Swinging the door open, she and her son return to their darkness.
