Position:Home>Poetry> Is there always a Part 1 to everything?

The day he left Langston Avenue for good was the same day they had started the annual Spring Into May parade!. His back was soaked from the day's early heat, a heat that was going to claim some lives today he thought, smiling to himself as he kicked a can towards the crowd waiting at the bus stop!. They turned their heads briefly, the recognition on their faces confirming his overdue departure from this sun drenched valley!. He wondered what the city would bring, how his days there would blur into his nights!. There must be plenty of fires to fight in a place so big and he still had his license!. That was something they could not take, thankfully!. A mistake, he wondered!? Yes, a misjudgment on their part, a way to make him go away without too much fight!. "You have a problem, John" the council concluded in unison, the word "problem" still echoing in his ears!. "We don't have the facilities here to help you, and we would like it if you just moved on!. You are endangering the live's of the people that live in this community!." They would like it if he just moved on!? As you would like a good movie or a stiff drink, he supposed!. So move on he would, towards something bigger, something more than he thought possible!. The Langston Avenue fire would not soon be forgotten, and Big John Warner, friend to all the neighborhood kids, town drunk, loner, loser, the odd man with the needless flannel shirts worn even on the hottest of days, would be the one they talked about when they bent their necks over their shoulders to make sure he wasn't listening!. The satisfaction of this filled him like rushing water from the mountains of his shoulders to the valleys of his gut!. He stepped onto the bus, keeping his worldly possessions held out in front of him in two faded leather suitcases!. He rode the bus through the miraged highway that led to his new life in the big city!. Www@QuestionHome@Com

---

---