There are days when I sense violence is too near.

I just got back from the Century Corridor to see and speak with the Hotel Workers fasting.

I just got back from the car watching Moco cry, her face scratched and bleeding.

I just got back from I don't know where, I don't know where or why it sometimes feels so near and other times so far.

They told me the fast isn't political but that it is spiritual.
We told each other, once away that they are sooooo political they don't even realize it.
The girls we grew up with romanticize the fast.
The girls we grew up with, like us love Moz, idealize culture and religion but fancy them separate.

I sense violence is near when I know a woman can't spend time with her children. I sense it is near when someone feels so helpless and angry that they don't want to spend time with their children or their family but would rather....

"I want to watch you bleed motherfucker. I've never wanted to watch anyone bleed so bad".

I came home and cried till 3:00 in the morning knowing I would feel better the next day but once in it seemed like it would never go away. But it did and now it's back

and now

it's on her and him and a little is on maybe her too. It's a nasty film you can't quite get out of your mouth when yer hungover. The kind when you brush yer teeth over and over again-----and it still dictates the odor you breathe out. You can't hide it and

everyone around fucking knows you were wasted last nite.

Their kids made drawings and hung them from the trees like used car salesmen decorate their lot.

"Cuantos anos tienes?", I said to the little boy taking pictures with my camera. "Siete", he said.

A similar film rested over my pupils and I delved within myself to see outside of my skepticism. To see outside of eyes that only see politics and only choose to see the love I deem as love when I sleep curled into C.B's armpit at nite.