monie love. special ed. dana dane. chubb rock. kwame = "the alumni"
no flash. and way too busy having hip-hop flashbacks, to care. memories of every inch of my brother's room covered in YO! Magazine rap posters (i was a girl. my room, girly - courteous of a 'how a lady acts' type mama). camping out in sibling's room, on weekends, just to get a cultural fix. pulled my mattress off of bed to sleep on floor, just to be surrounded by music and mix tapes and big casio keyboards. memories of high-top fades and gumbies. of colorful clothes, gold herring bones and door knocker earrings. of o.p.p. jackets (mines was pink) and finger waves. of wanting polka-dotted babies and slick rick, narrated day-dreams.
this night was nice. spent with my siblings, all of my father's children, who have never been in the same room, simultaneously. until his last day here, and who had, yet, to be in the same room since. pop-locking and rhyming in chorus, we released our shared grief, forged a new bond, and decided to do this once a month. daddy is happy.......
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