SECTION THIRTEEN
POETRY PAGE ONE
sm
COLUMN
FIFTY-EIGHT, APRIL 1, 2001
(Copyright © 2001 Al Aronowitz)
[Amiri Baraka wrote this poem for the 90th birthday of his father, Deacon Coyt Jones, and recited it to the audience at his father's 90th birthday party.]
Remember
the front room, the living
room, the dining room, the
Buffet, the big bed with the saddle
the dog, the fig tree, the old white
man
Doyle, next store, Mary Ann Notare
on
the other side. Remember
Walter
Page, how he was fat
and
sucked his thumb and
Board
and the Davises a little
band
of us remember how it
smelled
underneath the porch.
Now
remember who that is and the
was
of what you remember,
member
you bur'memb'a, and
Sandi,
my sister, oh in side me
tears
and laughter range like
lasting and
We was making sandwiches, mommy
Sd not
Sammiches
And we sure was not making no
Sangwiches
Tho
we was in Newark
Family got here
In the twenties
Ran outta Alabama
By "Jealous Crackers"
Burned my Granddaddy's stores,
1st rebuilt, then the other
Then he built a funeral parlor
Clown told him they'd put them
All in there. So they left
Went to Beaver Falls, Pa
Before Namath was born.
Steel
town was too stark,
Went East to Newark
Opened a grocery store
Had a piano, my uncle
Got funky on, in between
Delivering them groceries.
But the Depression came
And my grandfather went broke
Closed the store and got a republican
Gig night watchman in the election
machine
Warehouse.
But
remember the sandwiches, of
my uncles Pullman stock
When the white folks dry numbers
ran out
GL wd pull his colored ones
out
Remember
them sandwiches
We all had to make em
Momma
and Nana and Elaine
And me.
After school and on the
week ends
Was
when that cooperative
production
Went on
What did we talk about?
How did we feel?
We
talked about America
Old
folks talked me and my sister
Listened. That's where I
learned
about
Slavery
racism jealousy and greed.
It was a
Master Class
Mayonnaise,
spiced ham, on white
bread
And
a whole lotta laughin and a
whole lot
Of real teaching still reaching
Where it has laid
All these years
Inside my head
I
remember them sandwiches, Jim,
oh yeh...
Amiri
Baraka 11/00 ##
*
* *
THE
MAIN THING
WRONG
WITH YOU
IS
YOU AIN’T
IN
JAIL! ##
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